


Lucky Bloke's Ultimate Condom Sampler

by badluckvixen13 (alteringviews)



Series: 1 Million for Black Hermione [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All chapters are named after condoms, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, BAMF Hermione Granger, Boxers, Condoms, F/M, First Time, Football | Soccer, Hermione has shopping powers!, Insecurity, Jumpers, Lingerie, Manchester United, Scars, Shopping, Sweaters, Viktor Has a Big Dick, World Cup, ashamed of the amount of research required for this, because i had to, beneath her frumpy sweaters, hermione is actually really hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13
Summary: That's it, she'd decided nodding her head decisively. She wasn't going to spend another moment in her baggy jumpers, slacks, and flats hiding from the truth. She wasn't going to spend any longer in this weird territory of not quite a woman, no longer of girl nonsense. She was a bloody Granger. She could shop, haggle, procure, bargain, and read with the best of them. She was going to sex her boyfriend properly because damn it third-time was the most beautiful, sexiest charmer to ever ask her what she was reading.It was time to hit the books and pull out the big guns-- it was time to call Ginny and Fleur.





	1. Ceylor Hotshot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is on a god damn mission and nothing, not even her own insecurities nor this terrible customer service representative, is going to stand in her way. 
> 
> She was a Granger damnit and she wasn't afraid to use it.

To think this all started because of hormones. In their defense, she couldn’t run from them forever… at the same time, she had been doing pretty good. This was all his fault. His broad shoulders and dark eyes, the way his hair always seemed to be tousled and fluffy on his head-- not stringy, even when it was wet. His dark brown eyes that watched her so intently. It was like shiny objects to fish--irresistible.

Guess, that made her a guppy or something.

Hermione wandered into the sex store and the woman at the front watched her strangely. If she had any sense of decency or customer service, she would have offered to help her  _ before _ she’d had to start reading the descriptions on the boxes thirty minutes into wandering around the extensive store. 

Per Google and several other review sites, it was the best store to get anything she could possibly need in relation to sex from books, ideas to lingerie and toys. She’d also found a ridiculous number of coupons, manufacturer’s rebates and the like to at least make the trip worth it and was pleasantly surprised that they happened to be having a Fall Sale, some sort of pre-Black Friday thing.

She really didn’t understand how toys could come into play with sex, nor what a sex store had to do with American Thanksgiving, but upon seeing the impressive section she had some ideas and thanked whatever deity had been popping popcorn for this particular chapter in her life that she was a dark chocolate skin tone, too dark to blush.

Gods… she had it bad.

“Are you looking for something in particular?’

“Condoms, lube, and…” She pulled out a list and the woman gave her a strange look, because who treated a trip to a sex shop like a grocery trip?

“And anything that you would suggest for the first time?”

From the look on the woman's face, Hermione knew that this entire endeavor would be eons more embarrassing than she first thought...and she still had to go to Fleur’s shop as she was truly the only person she could trust to make her look good enough to distract from her nerves.

Not to mention she just liked the cut of Fleur’s lingerie above other brands. The woman had an eye for appealing style.

“Well… perhaps you should start with lube?”

Hermione took her advice and headed towards the lube section after perusing, some on the spot research and comparisons, she thanked the woman and bought the largest bottle of Passion Natural lube they had along with Lucky Bloke’s Ultimate Condom Sampler in two different sizes. Between the sale, the coupon, and the cash back on her credit card, she left paying about five dollars for what was surely a sixty dollar trip. 

Her mother would have been proud… she hoped. 

_ Is it bad to use my shopping powers for this? _ She wondered and could almost hear her mother laughing. 

_ You can only use your shopping powers for good, dear. That’s all they’re good for! _


	2. Caution Wear: Mission 707

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who else could she trust besides the very French Fleur? With tits like hers, Victoria's Secret just wasn't a damn option...
> 
> Besides... her Granger Instincts were tingling--Fleur was having a sale.

Styles of Flowers was the kind of shop that Hermione would have never gone into if she didn't know the owner, and the rather large sale poster wasn't in the window. It was a habit from her teenage years that never quite went away. Every time she saw one now, she thought of her mother and walked in as dutifully as ever.

Fleur’s shop was no different. Today, it was full of women chattering over the styles and delicacy of the lingerie available along with the actual clothing section of the store. She wandered around for barely a few seconds before a shop attendant asked her if she needed any help.

She couldn't help but smile--that was customer service.

“Fleur wouldn't happen to be here yet would she?”

“Are you Hermione?” the woman asked. “Fleur asked me to take you to the back as soon as you arrived.”

She nodded and followed the woman, ignoring the curious and snide looks she got as she passed. She was on a mission this Saturday and it wasn't to look cute for women fawning over silk and lace.

“Fleur? She's here.”

“Mon cherie, come in! Come in!”

Hermione thanked her guide and walked in Fleur’s private workshop and fitting room.

“Come, tell me about your handsome stranger? For I am sure he is handsome, yes?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile and a hug. It had been a while since she'd had a chance to speak to Fleur given the way her French shop had taken off in the middle of London.

“I know you have the finest taste, now come, I'll show you around and take your measurements.”

She'd had a few selections already prepared for her on her workbench and Hermione was grateful for the older woman's kindness. If she'd gone anywhere else, she knew that it wouldn't have gone as well. She may even have abandoned her mission altogether and just climbed beneath her blankets from the shame.

“Have you an idea of what he likes?” 

Hermione shook her head, “Just colors.”

“You can tell a lot from a color.”

Hermione didn't know how, but once she'd given Fleur all the information she'd asked for, the woman had a rather good working picture of Viktor’s personality: loyal, patient, very romantic, very intelligent, passionate and intense.

“Yes,”  Hermione said. “Intense is a good word for it.”

Fleur nodded, “Intense is good.”

Fleur looked towards her and smiled before grabbing her measuring tape. 

“Do not worry, mon ami, when I am done, he will not keep his hands off you.”

She swallowed, “I’ve… never been fitted before.”

She smiled, “The door is locked, we can go in the changing room if you’d like.”

She nodded and Fleur ushered her towards it. Curious as to why Hermione seemed to be nervous looking at her and shakily taking her clothes off until she was just in her underwear. She didn’t meet Fleur’s eyes, but that was no matter as Fleur could only stare. 

“Mon ami,” she started. “You are...nervous, but why?”

“I’m.. not exactly a standard of beauty.”

Fleur tilted her head slightly, looking at her but only smiled serenely and instructed her to hold her arms out as she measured her, sure to keep Hermione from seeing her own measurements as she wrote them down. Fleur had known a girl like her once, completely unaware of her own body to point where she cringed at the thought of showing it to anyone. At least until Fleur took all of her clothes and forced her to wear something stylish. The woman had never turned back after a day on the streets and being confronted with the fact that no one thought anything that she thought they did about the way she looked.

She had a feeling that Hermione would be similar, could be similar at least, if given the right nudge. Apparently, her handsome stranger, this Viktor was the right nudge.

“I will grab a few things for you to try,” she said, “But I have a feeling I know what will be best.”

Hermione shrugged, trying to cover her body with her arms, “I trust your judgment… most days.”

Fleur gave out an airy laugh and left her alone in the changing room. Fleur gazed over the things she’d set out and shook her head, none of them would do. Hermione didn’t need the gimmicks that so many others needed. No need for an illusion or anything, just accentuate and draw attention. 

Yes. 

She looked at the set she’d finished a while ago and grabbed sets that were the same size for Hermione to try on. To her credit, they fit perfectly even if Hermione was incredibly squeamish about wearing any of them. Fleur put the untagged set in a collection of tissue and set it at the bottom of the bag she would be packing for Hermione. At the end of it all, Fleur had managed to convince Hermione into seven sets of lingerie and three different dress even though Hermione had sworn that she couldn’t wear them. 

“They’re just too  _ much _ , Fleur.”

“You are seducing him, no?” She asked as she rang Hermione’s purchases up at the front and Hermione pulled out her wallet.

“Well… yes…”

“Then trust the French woman, you English people have no sense of passion.”

Hermione glowered at her, “I was only  _ born _ here, thank you.”

“Then act like it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as Fleur swiped her card and handed it back to her with the receipt, she looked at it and squinted at Fleur who beamed.

“Is called Mate’s Rates, no?”

Hermione shook her head, “I suppose.”

“May take payment if you come back to model for me, yes?”

“Not on your life!”


	3. RFSU Okeido

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because it was on sale..." had to be Hermione's way of saying that she was a little obsessed with always being practical as well as prepared. Ginny was sure of it...
> 
> But seriously... why a liter?

Ginny met her at her apartment and upon entering realized that Hermione was far more nervous about her plans than she’d first admitted. 

She was mopping and steaming her floor. 

It wasn’t that Hermione wasn’t always clean, but she reserved cleaning for the weekend. It was currently the Monday before a long holiday and her date with her boyfriend wasn’t until Thursday. She'd been running around London all weekend procuring things at a steal she was sure.

Bargain shopping, sale surfing, research, mopping and steaming--yep, Hermione was freaking out.

Ginny shook her head and closed the door behind her, “I haven’t seen you this riled up since school. You really like this guy, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said stiffly, thrusting the mop/steamer across the hardwood floor as if to clean up all of her anxieties. “And it’s important that everything goes smoothly.”

Ginny moved towards the bags on the table, the reason that she was here to “check” Hermione’s purchases.  A condom sampler for size, not a bad choice...seeing that Hermione had also bought the largest condoms possible, as well as the smaller ones, was just a hallmark of Hermione’s anxieties. She liked to be prepared, she always did and she always was. Something in her wanted to tell Hermione that no amount of preparation was going to make her less nervous, but she didn't say that as it would only serve to make her more nervous.

She'd bought bath salts and other things to prep and a new dress from Fleur’s shop that no doubt cost a fortune, but Ginny didn't see a tag.

“Yeah, but this a rather large bottle of lube…”

It had to be at least a liter of Passion Natural Water-Based lube and Ginny couldn’t even fathom what sexually uninvolved, oblivious, highly logical and clueless Hermione had planned for the large pump bottle. 

“It was on sale,” Hermione said as if it was the answer to life’s greatest question. 

Ginny snorted and went back to looking through the bags. 

“Besides, more lube is apparently better. Too much, in fact, is better than not enough. You said so yourself.”

“What about  _ natural _ lube? You think he won’t turn you on enough?”

Hermione stilled and Ginny looked at her in her frumpy jumper and joggers. As usual, she was practically drowning in fabric, making it impossible to figure out what she looked like beneath it all.

“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly and then turned away. 

Ginny winced, she’d hit one of those land mines it seemed that sent Hermione back into her harried mopping of the hardwood. 

“You’ve… at least made it to second base, right?” Hermione didn’t answer and Ginny sighed, “Like never?”

Again, she didn’t answer. Viktor had the sort of old world charm and sense of things that had kept them in rather chaste territory. They’d made out, she guessed, but he always pulled back. She planned on getting to the bottom of it all by the end of their weekend together. 

“Hermione,” Ginny started again, following Hermione and her trusty mop down the hall and into her home office.

She stopped her, turning off the mop and grabbed the older woman by the shoulders. Hermione wouldn’t look at her and she sighed.

“No matter what happens you stay strong, okay? I’ll text you Saturday morning. If you don't answer, I'll assume the best.”

“Don’t tell Ron or Harry?”

She’d never hear the end of it, especially with the history between the three of them. She and Harry had never dated, but they’d been the best of friends, siblings that the two of them never had. He was protective of her and still rather wary about her mentioning a boyfriend that he’d yet to meet. She also had a feeling that he was waiting for her and Ron to get back together. She’d yet to figure out a way to tell him outright that it was NEVER going to happen. 

On the other hand, there was Ron who was still, maybe, smarting from the end of their relationship...And also waiting to get back with her. 

She shuddered at the thought, her arms wrapping around herself in an old protective habit. Ron--yet another failed journey to try and sex  _ someone _ . 

Goodness, there were only two real journeys down that path and they both had ended in horrible humiliation for her. She still couldn’t always look Ron in the eye and absolutely refused to go anywhere with him, or the rest of their friends, where anything less than full clothing was expected. The look he'd given her still burned in her mind.

It got her cut out of many trips to the beach because of it.

“Not a word,” Ginny said, holding up a hand. “Begrudging Girl Scout’s honor.”

She smiled at that, chuckling.

“Now, let me see this lingerie you’ve picked up. You know Fleur wouldn’t give me any details.”

Hermione huffed, but the French woman had decided to let slip that Hermione had been to her shop. What happened to honor among old schoolmates? She guessed it meant nothing compared to honor among sisters. She licked her lips and turned to leave the mop/steamer and lead Ginny towards her bedroom where she’d placed her lingerie purchases on her bed. 

There was one bag, stuffed with tissue paper that seemed rather big for one set. Ginny took the time to take the tissue out and chuckle.

“You’re incredibly nervous, aren’t you?” She asked, lifting a scandalously blue lacy teddy with a deep plunge out of the bag. The cups weren’t padded, but to Ginny’s eyes, they were way bigger than they should have been… At least bigger than her own cups she was sure. She was also sure that there was no way that Hermione would be bold enough to wear it. 

Fleur had chosen it, in her normally pushy way, Ginny was sure. After all, Hermione could knock a bully down to size with just a few words and a well-placed kick, but she men and sex were an entirely different, hesitantly attempted, virtually unventured terrain for her. 

There was a red one that also came without frills, but was clearly meant to cling and accentuate curves that Ginny wasn’t entirely sure Hermione had. Perhaps Fleur was having an off day? It was all rather flashy, too flashy with not enough veils to hide behind for Hermione she was sure. Then again, when Ginny had gone to Fleur’s shop looking for something for her and Harry’s anniversary she’d come out thinking she had a far larger cup size than she actually did. Fleur may have been pushy and a tad invasive, but the woman knew her clothing. 

“I like the blue or the red one,” Ginny said and continued to pull sets out. There was clearly a theme, there weren’t nearly as many gimmicks in Hermione’s bag as there had been in Ginny’s no whimsical sheer babydolls or chemise, but all bodysuits, flashes, and deep plunges. 

It seemed that she had one in every color. Hermione nodded before Ginny froze. 

“Shut the front door,” Ginny said pulling out the set that Hermione hadn’t even realized was in there. “This one, Hermione.”

Hermione gawked at the thing. It was the thinnest, most delicate piece of lingerie she’d ever seen in a gold that seemed darker like it was aged or bronzed. It looked reminiscent of antiques and would look amazing against Hermione's dark brown skin. Unlike the others, this was more about skin revealed in chosen patches. There was no back, though it held together at the nape of her neck. It made her think of something incredibly regal and beautiful that made her arms tighten around her frightfully. Fleur had thrown it in her bag while she wasn’t looking hiding it at the bottom and not charging her for it-- _ the sneak. _

“There’s a note,” Ginny said pulling out the slip of paper to ready the French woman’s neat handwriting. “ _I give the gold to you, my frightened caterpillar to turn you into a butterfly for free as you will be my first reviewer. Have fun and get swept away by your handsome stranger. Exes and Os, Fleur. P.S. I will take no other repayment_.”

Ginny lifted an eyebrow and looked at Hermione, “She asked you to model, didn’t she?”

“She did.”

“And?”

“Not on her life, the meddling sneak,” Hermione huffed looking at it. “I… I don’t know Ginny, isn’t it awfully… showy?”

Ginny snorted, “Have you tried it on?”

Hermione shook her head and Ginny dutifully thrust it towards her.

“Go on then. He’s coming to see you on Thursday, isn’t he? You have plenty of time.”

Hermione sighed knowing that she wasn’t going to get out of this. She took it gingerly and sighed. 

“When I look ridiculous--”

“Hush up, and try it on,” Ginny said in a startling imitation of Fleur. 

Hermione went into the bathroom and did as commanded, stripping down to put it on after working out exactly how it was supposed to be worn.  If she were able to, she would have blushed, looking away from the mirror remembering to chant to herself that she wanted this, that Viktor wasn’t Ron or Cormac. She had nothing to be ashamed of, not even the way the lace cups hugged and supported her perfectly, the gentle sheer lace making loops around her waist and hips attached to the thong. It was really a beautiful piece of lingerie, but she felt ridiculous, shying away from her own gaze in the mirror. 

“Don’t laugh,” she pleaded.

“Come out and I won't.”

She huffed and opened the door, careful to wrap her arms around her waist as Ginny blinked and her jaw dropped. 

“I look ridiculous,” she said looking down. “Happy?”

“Yep,” she said. “Definitely gold. Where the hell did you get all that body from and how have you been covering it up all this time? More importantly, can I have some?”

She wrapped her arms around herself looking down, feeling incredibly exposed and shamed. She’d done so much to hide all of this, preferring large jumpers and loose slacks to anything really form-fitting. She worked in a research library--there was no need to dress up. Viktor hadn’t ever seemed to mind. He made her feel comfortable in her skin in a way that she hadn’t in a long time. Since she was too young to care about what boys that she supposed. 

Viktor wasn’t Cormac who liked to show off his date but never seemed to be able to with her. He'd said that he didn't really want to be seen with her and hoped she would've been a little more open to showing him what was beneath her frumpy clothes. She wouldn’t change her style, and she didn’t appreciate his casually derisive marks against her person. 

He made her skin crawl with just the thought of being naked with him, that man who flaunted his body shamelessly and was put out that she wouldn’t. Rather than being patient, they’d broken up before she’d even managed to pluck up the courage to let him see… Actually, the night she’d planned to--dressed up and everything, he’d canceled on her and broke up with her all of twenty minutes into the conversation.  She should have known that, with his ego, they were doomed to fail anyway.  Viktor had pride, but not so much that one could lose themselves in it. He tended to shy away from attention even though he was famous. It seemed that only with her had he always been standing his full height and not so aware of the eyes on them because his eyes were on her.

And Viktor certainly wasn't Ron who really had a type and it wasn’t her. The way he’d looked at her when she’d pulled her jumper over her head had made any thought of removing her dress shirt impossible. She’d broken up with Ron to spare them both the heartache of pretending. Ron preferred pretty, thin girls built a little curvier than Ginny’s frame but nowhere near Hermione. He preferred them pale to cafe au lait rather than chocolate. He preferred Lavender Brown.

The one thing she could say about Cormac was that he didn’t discriminate. If it was beautiful and could keep up with his need to broadcast it--he wanted it. At the very least Cormac was a little more supportive, all though still kind of a tosser about it. They’d both suggested she go work out more, lose weight if she was so self-conscious about her body that she was ashamed to be naked, to let them undress her. 

She hadn’t told them that she worked out more than either of them even outside of her martial arts because… 

Well, it hadn’t mattered. There was no amount of working out that would get rid of her thighs. If anything it would make them bigger. Her ass wasn’t going anywhere, though perhaps it got a little rounder. Her breasts weren’t going anywhere though with the amount of muscle behind them they were rather perky. 

She was just shaped the way she was and it wasn’t any variation of European except for maybe Greek or Southern Italian. She looked like she’d walked straight into existence like some ancient Pygmalion sculpture of war and fertility embodied. 

_Astarte_ is what her grandmother would have said an  _ Amazon. _

She smiled at the thought thinking of her mother whom she’d taken after greatly in her height and her shape. The line of women she’d descended from were all built the same-- _ stacked, _ as the Americans would say.

“It’s perfect,” Ginny told her. “Absolutely perfect. Gorgeous, wish I looked that good in anything without the frills. Now, what are you wearing over it?”

Hermione winced, changed back into her clothes and got the dress from the dining room that Fleur had insisted she wear, a strong red more form fitting that she liked, than anything she'd ever worn. 

“Hot tamale of body con,” Ginny said with a grin. “Red and gold.”

“She also gave me this one and a gold one,” Hermione said pulling out the vibrant periwinkle dress that Ginny grinned at. “Red is good for seduction. Maybe wear the periwinkle or gold out on Friday? You're supposed to be going out with him right?”

She worried her lip, “Maybe, if Thursday doesn't crash and burn.”

She snorted, “With you wearing that? Doubt it. Now, about your hair…”


	4. Billy Boy (Special Power)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally, we hear from the Bulgarian Bon Bon... 
> 
> Also known as Viktor...
> 
> Did he mention that Hermione is a badass?

Viktor got his haircut the morning after they'd made plans for him to spend the holiday with her and she agreed to accompany him to the cocktail party on the next Friday. Usually, that was something he would never willingly do. He liked it longer to hide his scars, to distract from his slightly crooked nose and sharp cheekbones. Hermione, in all of her grace and all of her quirks, had never seemed to care… 

Well, apparently, neither did his fans.

When he cut his hair and showed up for practice the next day, the reporters had a field day and, even worse, the  _ fans _ had gone nuts raving about it. His team had only smiled and teased him mercilessly about having either large plans for the weekend and being serious about his girlfriend if he was cutting his hair. Apparently, they all liked the shorter look as it made him look  _ sexy _ ,  _ dangerous _ and older. The scar that ran through his eye and the other across his cheek weren’t nearly as prominent as he felt they were and, apparently, a bit of professional photography made him look like a badass rather than needing a mask. 

The accident that could have ended his football career wasn’t a secret really. The details of it, however, were. The reason why he couldn’t even look his brothers in the eye without getting pissed off was as well. The scars were just memories that never went away, screaming at him from the mirror and reminding. His brothers hated him. His father had been insane and he’d very nearly lost the little bit of sanity he had in the world: his mother and football. 

Per their assistant coach, his new haircut accentuated exactly how  _ masculine _ his face was rather than soften it. 

“ _ You aren’t Adonis like your brothers. You’re Herakles and women love it. _ ”

He rolled his eyes at the Greek reference and groaned at the mention of his brothers who had all taken after his mother’s side of the family with their boyish faces, all of them had stolen all they could from the Grecian gene pool leaving only Slavic features and olive skin for Viktor. There was a reason beyond his scars that they didn’t get along to this day. 

“It looks good,” Uriel assured him. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

He hoped Hermione liked it as it would be the first time she’d invited him to her flat and the first he’d let anyone touch his hair in years. Along with pictures of him and his new haircut came the gossip columns of the girlfriend Uriel mentioned, something that made Viktor chase him around the pitch, kicking footballs at him with unerring accuracy.

It was all his fault after all. 

That aside, he didn't know what to say looking at the tabloids with his face, mid-kick and a devious smile looking at him as if the image of himself was aiming for him. He looked confident, triumphant as if he knew the goal would be his and there was nothing the goalie could do to stop him. He looked how he actually felt on the field, moving too fast for anyone to notice the scars. It was a good shot, a beautiful shot that would probably result in a lot of sales and a call from his mother. He’d left it longer on the top, not sheering it short like he had in lower school. It was just enough to comb fingers through and grace his forehead in a way that apparently made his incredibly angular face masculine instead of harsh.

He shuddered, remembering Durmstrang Academy and the militant rules about what they were and were not allowed to do. In university, he’d grown his hair out long in pure rebellion, stopped shaving and a whole host of things for about a month before he just couldn’t take it anymore. He shaved (more regularly at least) and trimmed his hair (very haphazardly)… at least until the accident that gave him all the scars and very nearly ruined his chances of going pro. 

But that was five years ago. The wounds had all healed and, aside from the cosmetic, damage he had not been seriously injured. His hair had been to his shoulder, usually in a sloppy half ponytail for games and still managed to get in his face. He hadn’t minded it as it truly did distract from the scars, but it was time for a change. He wanted her to see her for who he was. Ironically, seeing himself on the cover of the sports magazine from the last game they played, right after he’d gotten his haircut, made him feel like he hadn’t in a long time. 

_ Bulgarian Bon Bon Playing For England Set To Dominate In The Playoffs! _

He wasn't so sure about that, but he took his practices seriously and  _ god _ how he wished someone would think of something better to call him than “Bulgarian Bon Bon” or Viktor “Krazy” Krum. 

His mother called him Tuesday to rave about his haircut and demand a lunch date. He met her at their usual spot on Wednesday after morning practice, hugged her tightly, kissed her cheek and let her fawn over her youngest son in the way that only she could.

_ My little lightning bolt... _

It was Wednesday evening now and he wandered back to his own flat to rifle through his clothes. Uriel, his dearest friend, greatest nuisance, and roommate sat on his bed.

“When you said you would, I didn't believe you. Sorry, old friend.”

Viktor glared at him as he grabbed his bag and began throwing things in, taking the suit he'd be wearing and packing casual clothes. Uriel watched him for a few moments, taking stock of how stiff he seemed. Viktor had his insecurities like anyone else, but he was the kind of guy that accepted them readily. He never seemed uncomfortable in his own body or jittery, like a damn black cougar perfectly still until it was time to strike.

At the moment, he looked more like a hunted bunny.

“You're nervous.”

“She is special,” he said and Uriel smirked.

“Oh yeah? Special enough to get you to finally cut your hair?”

“I hate you most days,” Viktor said throwing a hacky sack at him.

“You'll be fine. You're going over to her place after nearly half a year of dating. She's been here, I've met her. It's time. Has England made you so soft that you have forgotten how to handle a woman?”

Viktor snorted, “Hardly. She is…”

He sighed, stopping to ponder for the word. Fragile wasn't right. Hermione was anything but fragile, especially after seeing the way she'd taken down a mugger on the way to the train from their date. She'd been a goddess, leveling the attacker and then shying away from his attention as he stared awed at her then checked her over for injuries.

_ Not… exactly how I expected to tell you about that... _

He wondered if she ever expected to tell him that she was a black belt in one of the most dangerous styles of martial arts known to man.

“She is… precious,” Viktor decided and went back to packing. There was something about her that he just couldn't put his finger on about her. 

She was shy, sure, but it wasn’t just shy the way she wrapped herself close and shied away sometimes. He would dare say threatened, frightened,  _ uncomfortable _ at the least.

“Well, are you afraid you're not her type? What have her past boyfriends been like?”

Viktor’s lips twitched. Hermione hadn't said much about “Ron” or “Cormac” beyond they broke up because of “a conflict of interests”.

“Conflict of interests?” Uriel scoffed. “Sounds like an evasion to me. What did you tell her about your exes?”

“We also split because of conflicts of interest.”

Uriel snorted and shook his head. Viktor’s exes, if they could be called that, had gravitated to him because he was courteous, nice, and famous. It helped that his family, while from Bulgaria, had great influence through his father’s company which his mother now managed. They hadn't really wanted to get to know him beyond the right to say that they “bagged Viktor Krum”. He was pretty sure that they mourned the loss of Viktor’s fame and connections more than Viktor himself. Hermione was the only woman who met Viktor just the way he was without trying to change him. His exes wanted him to smile more, to talk more, to cut his hair and just be the celebrity and potential heir to Vratsa Enterprises. They hadn't ever asked about his scars, as light as they were, hadn't asked about his family, but he knew Hermione had. 

Hell, Viktor had come home on cloud nine at an ungodly hour, drinking gallons of coffee to keep awake during practice from staying out all night on the pier with her, just talking.

_ She's amazing _ , Viktor told him, scarfing down food and drinking coffee. 

It had been the first time the reporters caught him smiling, serenely and broad so his dimples showed. The fans had raved for weeks about how they’d just realized how handsome he actually was. It was the day “Bulgarian Bon Bon” first graced the papers.

“Checklist,” Uriel said. “Condoms.”

“Da.”

“Hair gel.”

Viktor gave him a look and he laughed. 

“Deodorant?”

Viktor rolled his eyes.

“Razor?”

“Thanks,  _ Mama,”  _ he said.

“ _ But my little lightning bolt, _ ” Uriel teased and Viktor proceeded to throw another hacky sack at him. Uriel fell back.

“You love her?”

“Da.”

Uriel nodded, “I'm glad. Mama will be happy.”

“She's my Mama, not yours.”

Uriel grinned, “Tell her that.”

Viktor conceded him that and finished packing his bag before getting ready for bed. They lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling.

“I'm glad you are happy again,” Uriel said. “Now, let's hope you don't scare her off with your _manly urges_.”

Viktor shook his head and turned over, “Goodnight, Uriel.”

“What if she can't cook?”

Viktor couldn't help but laugh. Somehow, Uriel always knew what to say.


	5. Lifestyles KYNG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time. Let's hope he's wearing deodorant and doesn't chicken out at the last possible minute.

Before either of them realized, Thursday arrived. Viktor went to practice and the pre-game press release after, nervous and feeling oddly light considering that Rita Skeeter, his least favorite journalist was there and as usual attempting to get a scoop on his love life. 

“Will your girlfriend be in attendance at the post-game mixer?”

He smirked, “Perhaps, if she still likes me in the morning.”

They laughed at that and whatever other questions they asked faded away. The team rallied together in the locker room to go over the details for the game the next afternoon and Viktor showered and got dressed. The locker room went up in jeers as he packed his bag and got ready to leave. 

“Got a hot date tonight with this imaginary girlfriend of yours?” Dean asked with a snort. 

Viktor smirked, “Much better than left hand.”

Dean shut his mouth as the laughter rippled around the locker room and Viktor headed out. The late fall air was welcome to cool him down from practice, the showers, and nerves. God, he was so nervous that he almost walked right past her flat. He stopped, looking up at the building before checking again that he had everything, including the bottle of wine and flowers he’d brought. 

He took a deep breath and walked to ring her flat. 

“This is Hermione Granger’s flat,” she greeted cheerily.

“I am looking for my girlfriend. Perhaps you know her?”

She laughed, “Come on up, push the first door and pull the second.”

The buzzer went off and he did as she asked before walking towards the elevator. It was a rather nice flat, more of a condominium than anything. Each of the seven elevators only serviced the condos near them. She’d told him she was in the seventh block on the seventh floor in the seventh flat. 

He remembered her telling him that it hadn’t been on purpose, it had only happened that way and it was probably the luckiest place she’d ever lived in. He hoped that he would be lucky too and the weekend wouldn’t completely dissolve into horror the way he dreaded.


	6. Trojan Magnum XL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time... Perhaps she should have timed it worse so she had some more time to freak out and possibly chicken out too.

Luckily for him, Hermione had been thinking the same thing since she’d gotten off work around noon that day. She’d left work, went to the market to pick up a few items and went home to get all of her prep work done with a bit of music in the background. She’d always found that music and food went together well for her and everything seemed so much less dire when she cooked and sang. She’d washed and conditioned her hair, leaving it in for a full day with her usually curly hair tamed into a litany of twists. When the prep work for dinner was done, she went into the bathroom to wash the conditioner from her hair and draw appropriate amounts of leave-in conditioner through it, smiling a bit at the all-natural label on the bottle. It was really nothing more than whipped oils, water, and nutrients, something that she could have, and had, made herself once upon a time, but she didn’t want the stress tonight. She twisted her hair into twists again, wrapped it in setting wraps, drew her bath and filled it with bath salts. 

Per the labels, they would be the best to “awaken” her natural scent, pheromones and help her relax. Quite honestly, she’d bought it because she needed all the confidence she could manage--fabricated or not...It had also been on sale. It smelled of egyptian musk and sandalwood and she smiled. She rather liked it and hoped Viktor would too. She hadn’t really worn perfume or anything like that around him… or at all really so it was all rather new and a bit exciting. 

When the water was warm and the milk and salts had fully dissolved she pulled her drying cap on, sunk into the tub and turned on the dryer, trying to make herself relax by going over the list of things she’d gotten done. 

Baths were always a thing of luxury for her, a little bit of time that she could comfortably peruse her own body without feeling any shame about it. She had a few scars from her trauma and childhood, her study of martial arts and the like, but none of it was very noticeable now. She at the very least did take care of her body even if she didn’t show it off regularly. 

She let out a shuddering breath realizing that yes, she was going to do this. Going to put herself on full display the way no one had ever inspired her to do before. Cormac and Ron’s insinuations had only made her retreat deeper into her shell. Their attentions weren’t ever truly focused on her, maybe the idea of her, the body they imagined beneath… maybe one of their own fantasies, but it was never her. 

_Viktor…_ Viktor’s attention seemed to always been on her. His silent intensity making her a little uncomfortable, but craving more as well. He was so…

She wasn’t sure. Intense didn’t seem to work, barely glancing off the mark.

Focused was better. When he played soccer, when he read, when he argued… he was just so focused, never doing anything halfway-- much like her, she supposed. 

She got out of the tub and set to applying the body oils she liked. They smelled warm, like home, and were the kind she reserved for her spa days. They made her feel womanly and helped settle her in her skin as she shimmied into sweatpants, thick socks, and a long sleeve shirt before tugging her drying cap off and turning the machine off. She slid on her gloves and headed into her bedroom to lay her clothes out and arrange things around her bedroom. 

She’d dusted and cleaned everything. Electric candles for mood instead of real ones for safety reasons. She’d placed the lube and condoms in the nightstand and had even procured a smaller pump bottle as Ginny had insisted that the industrial sized pump bottle might have been a bit of overkill and  _ overwhelming _ for their first time in bed together. 

At the very least she had an inordinate number of refills. She brushed her teeth and went into the bathroom checking her phone and her timers. Viktor would be just finishing practice in about thirty minutes, giving her about an hour and a half until he would be outside her flat. 

She smiled a little whimsically as she checked on dessert, the mini chocolate swirled cheesecake cakes seemed to be doing well, chocolate filling the cracks and all. One was Oreo, the other a rich decadent chocolate. The roast was still cooking but would be done in enough time as she was sure that he would be starving when he arrived.

She’d never cooked for a man before. Cormac and Ron had not lasted long enough to get to that point--they hadn’t even lasted long enough to get her jumper off. She shook her head, remembering that Viktor had been almost reverent when he’d unbuttoned her jumper as they made out in his bed sometime after one of his practices and his roommate had been away. His hands trembling and looking at her as if she were the world. She hadn’t even thought to be self-conscious in the moment too enthralled. He’d put her jumper back on for her and kissed her gently before driving her back to her flat and walking her to the front door. 

She shook her head clear of those memories, making sure that everything else was on schedule to be ready before moving to do her nails on the balcony listening to Indie Arie’s soulful voice. 

_ Depending on how the wind blows, I might even paint my toes… _

She sang along painting a thin layer of glitter as french tips to her toes and going for the same on her fingertips, gold glitter that sparkled delicately, giving her a bit of flare. She thought of her Mum then, one Melissa Harper Granger, and the blue nights they’d spend in the living room, hair wrapped up, nails drying, and watching movies. 

She’d give… almost anything to have another day like that with her Mum or another date with her Dad to a tennis match or something else. 

She sighed and smiled, reciting her mother’s famous words, “ _There’s nothing that a bit of glitter won’t fix_.”

She laughed, putting the top back on her nail polish and spraying her nails so the layers dried faster. Twenty minutes before Viktor was timed to arrive, she got up and went to her bedroom to peel off the rest of her “incubating” outfit. Her skin felt soft and glowed beneath the gold of the body suit and the deep red of the dress. She swallowed, smoothing it over her hips and worrying her lip in the mirror. Was it too much? Too short? Too tight? What would he think of her hips? 

She was too much in this dress and no amount of tugging it down would make it longer. She walked away from the mirror to catch her breath and steady herself by fumbling with the shoes Ginny had demanded she wear with it after gawking at Hermione’s closet. 

“ _ I’ve never seen you in any of this! Since when do you shop? _ ”

She hated to admit that it was the one thing that she and her mother did well--bargain shop very high-end things. She’d inherited a lot of her closet from the very stylish Mrs. Granger, as well as her ability to find and snag a deal.

They were simple brown stilettos red bottoms that made her legs look like they went on forever… Perhaps they were too much as well? Enhancing how big her legs looked already. She tried to think of something else, something that wasn’t the fact that Ginny was several sizes smaller than she was with legs like a model while her legs were…

She wasn’t sure, but they weren’t the things you see strutting down a runway or anything that screamed beauty. She was…

_ A martial artist _ , she reminded herself as she slipped a gold anklet on and walked towards the kitchen, yet another thing that Ginny had been so surprised about. Then again, since she never saw Hermione in heels, always in sensible nearly flat shoes, it was a reasonable assumption to make that she didn’t own, nor know how to walk in them. 

Mrs. Granger had been the type of mother worthy of any aspiring debutante. She’d taught Hermione how to strut like the best of them when she was still in school, insisting that it may come in handy one day if she ever wanted to use her height to make some money. 

_ I’m not exactly model material, _ she’d told her mom after they’d practiced for a while and Hermione had gotten the hang of it. 

Her mother had only lifted her chin and told her that any woman was model material if she believed it. How funny that even now, that ghost of a memory, made her feel just a little more settled in this decision.

She walked to the bathroom again and confronted her reflection before dabbing on a bit of colored lip gloss and taking her hair down so it came apart in neat spirals. She did her eyes in a deep smoky topaz and breathed. Hermione corralled it over one shoulder letting her neck be free and the cut of the halter dress show. She checked for lines and flashes of gold before nodding to herself. She could do this, she thought rubbing her lips together to smear the shine evenly and teasing her curls apart for a little more volume. 

She shook her head. She couldn’t do this, but it was too late to try and change now. The buzzer went off and she almost cursed her own sense of timing before walking to the intercom. 

“This is Hermione Granger’s flat.”


	7. GLYDE Maxi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's here. She's opening the door... and well.. 
> 
> Holy fuck, she was going to be the death of him.

Viktor rolled his shoulders, straightened his back, checked his breath and knocked on 7-7. He heard the sound of heels on hardwood and could barely breathe as she opened the door shyly. Her eyes are the first thing, then her face. She was wearing make-up. Not the annoying amount that some of his fans wore, but just enough to accentuate her features and give her eyes a bit of sexier feel. Her lips are shiny and wet with lip gloss and a little red. Her eyes are made up with a dark golden amber color that makes her eyes seem a darker brown--liquid pools of siren songs. He finds that he likes it. He likes it even more that her hair is free from its usual braid or bun, but in soft, glossy, sculpted curls over her shoulder. He’d never realized exactly how much hair she had, but he felt his hands twitch to just grab a handful of it and pull her towards him.

And then, there's the dress, that makes him drop the bottle of wine on the ground and stare like a fool because he'd imagined. Truly, he'd imagined, but he'd never dreamed this. With her jumpers and slacks, it was hard really to tell what her body looked like. He imagined that she was soft with curves perhaps, carrying a bit more weight in some regions than others… When he’d thought about making love to her, it hadn’t ever really crossed his mind what she looked like, but what she would sound like, what she would feel like clinging to him, begging him for more…

Or screaming in terror depending on if it was a daydream or a night terror. 

He hadn’t thought about it concretely until he’d gotten her jumper off to see the white blouse she wore beneath it and where her hips actually were. He realized she had wide, womanly hips, the kind that would fit perfectly in his large hands and all of her height wasn’t in her legs, but divided well between her torso and legs. Thick thighs, wide hips and an impressive bust...He’d known she was beautiful, but… this…

He was sure that if he moved, even an inch it would be to kiss her and take her on the floor in the doorway. She fidgeted under his gaze, hot and intense looking at her before he schooled it back to that polite smile, his dimples appeared and all that was left of that desire was red on his olive cheeks and in his eyes. 

“You are beautiful.”

She smiled shyly, “Come in.”

She stepped back to let him in but he stopped her, moving to kiss her, forcing himself to only taste her mouth before bending to pick up the bottle of wine and offer her flowers. Her eyes brightened at the bouquet of lilies, her favorite from what he remembered.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you. Dinner is done, I know you’re probably starving.”

Viktor nodded and closed the door behind him just quick enough to watch her walk away. How he had ever missed the sway of her hips, the round curve of her arse and strength of her legs…? For goodness sake, he’d been dating a proper sex symbol, what pin-ups wished they could be all this time and he hadn’t known! He cursed every jumper, blouse, and pair of slacks in the world for deceiving him so. 

He’d always considered himself a man that liked a woman with a mind. There was nothing sexier, he thought, than Hermione arguing him down over random medical theories. It just wasn’t fair that she could wrap his mind around her finger  _ and _ his body. What was he going to do? He was already terrified of having the sex conversation with her, but now he  _ had  _ to--there was no way around it with her in that dress. His… _equipment_ aside he was just a man and he needed to know for sure if he would have to hold this memory in his mind for a little longer before she was ready as proper wanking material or perhaps get his mouth on her sooner rather than later. Her back out and the cut of the dress skimming her luscious curves. He wanted to touch her even as she looked so… innocent standing there putting the flowers in a vase with aspirin and water, smiling in the soft light. 

“Where should I put bag?” He asked, following after her. 

“Anywhere is fine,” she said. “Are you thirsty?”

_ Yes, but I don’t think what I want is in your refrigerator… _

He rounded the corner to look into her large kitchen. Dishes set out for the two of them on the island along with glasses. 

“Would you… mind setting the table?” She asked looking at him. 

“No,” he said thickly, lifting the dishes and thankful for a distraction. He was supposed to be a gentleman, to take things slowly. He didn’t want her to think that he’d come over  _ just _ to have sex. 

“What is… occasion?” Viktor asked.

“Well, there's a very handsome bloke I'm having dinner with tonight… What's the occasion for you?”

He smirked knowing it would come. Hermione wouldn't have pointed out the change in his hair, nor drawn attention to it first. 

“Did you lose a bet with Uriel?”

He laughed, “Ne. I am having dinner with my gorgeous girlfriend tonight and spending weekend with her. I wanted to make good impression.”

She smiled shyly, “I think she likes it.”

He smiled, “I like it too.”

She turned to the oven to open it and pull out dinner and he groaned at the smell. His mouth watered, meat and garlic, onion and spice he smelled and something else that he couldn’t put his finger on but made his stomach growl. 

“What is that?”

“Pot Roast,” she said with a smile. “Hope you're hungry. I thought a light salad might not be enough for you.”

Viktor chuckled and helped her carry dishes to the table. He pulled a chair out for her and pushed her up to the table before they sit down to eat.

“How was practice?”

He smiled and cut into the roast with his knife and found that it fell apart without any prodding, “Go well. Am still dealing with reporter woman Skeeter who want whole life story with her edits.”

She nodded and laughed, Rita was a piece of work. He groaned at the first taste, because yes, having it fall apart on his plate was one thing, having it melt in his mouth but not be mushy was another. He’d have to tell Uriel that yes she could cook and add it to the ever growing list of things that was making it incredibly hard to remain a gentleman with her.

“Mila, is heaven,” he said breathlessly and she smiled, proud and happy before turning eat quietly. Viktor wanted to weep, it all tasted so good and he was eternally grateful that he'd decided on red wine because it just went so well with it all.

“Dessert?” she asked with a nervous smile.

“You spoil me,” he said looking at her as she stood and took his plate from him, despite his protest.  She only put a hand on his jaw and trailed it down his neck across his collar and over his shoulder as she went into the kitchen, effectively frying his brain.

Hermione smiled and reminded herself to thank Ginny for the tip. Viktor’s protest had died in his throat and his dark eyes only grew darker looking at her. It was a little heady to watch, but she put their dishes in the sink to soak before pulling out the mini cheesecakes and popping them out of their spring form pans to serve.

He could have cried, “Mila…”

She gave him a fork, “Don't just stare at it.”

Viktor looked at the cake and then to her as she sat down. He only gets a bite in before his eyes are fluttering. It was so hard to find cheesecake, one of his many sweet weaknesses, that he liked in England. This was perfect.

“Viktor?”

He looked at her and waited for her to continue. It was such an odd feeling, as he set his fork down and gave her all of his attention. Viktor was really the only person she’d known besides her parents to always give her their undivided attention when she spoke.

“Do you...find me attractive?”

His eyes widened at the question, but seeing her discomfort he shook his head, “Da. Very, mila.”

She worried her lip and looked at him.

“What is it, mila?” he asked reaching for her hand. “Something is wrong, yes?”

She looked at him, “Why… why do you stop? When we kiss…”

Viktor frowned, “Am not understanding.”

“When we… were kissing...in your flat...you...you stopped.”

“Da.”

“Why?” she asked, looking at her plate, “Was it… because I wasn't wearing something like this?”

Viktor frowned and moved his chair to look at her and take her hands in his.

“Am not sure where question come from, but I love you. Want you in sweater, sweatpants, heels,  _ sack.. _ .I want you.”

She looked at him hesitantly, but he didn't look away, merely brought her hands to his lips to kiss them.

“Does not matter what you wear…”

“What about what I look like?” she ventured. “I… know I'm not really...your type.”

He frowned, “What is meaning? Type?”

“What you're attracted to? What you like in a woman?”

He mumbled, mulling over the words and nodded, “Is wrong. You are type.”

She laughed, “I'm pretty sure your exes aren't anything like me.”

“Not have exes, have past lovers, mila,” he said. “Not for not trying, just was not right. Missing heart and brain...Not really have those before…”

She nodded, “I'm… clean.”

Viktor looked at her strangely and she looked away. 

“Uhm… I'm… attracted to you too.”

Viktor gave her an amused smile, trying not to laugh at exactly how awkward she was being, “Is something else you would like to say?”

She looked at him and closed her eyes, tense and a tad embarrassed, “I have lube, every size of condom possible, and I...I don't have a roommate, so there's no reason to stop and I thought maybe if… if you want.. we could… you could...uhm.. sleep with me perhaps?”

Viktor blinked trying to decode the hasty vomit of words before her brain and shame caught up with her and she went on another tangent as she was one to do when she was nervous.

“I mean… never mind, I--”

“Have physical today,” he said smiling at her and keeping her hands hostage. “Am clean too.”

She looked at him hopefully as he smiled, “And I would love to lie with you, mila...make love to you if you wish.”

She swallowed, almost swooning but let out a sigh of relief as she nodded and managed to smile back. Viktor was always so… patient with her. Happy to take her quirks, finding them endearing.

He never called her mental even when she felt she was slightly OCD.

“I… would like that very much, Viktor…”

He smiled, “Will put cake away, yes?”

She nodded and moved, but he stilled her standing and moving to take them both and return them to their spring forms, cover them and slide them back in the refrigerator as she worried her lips and fiddled with her fingers. He puts their dishes in the dishwasher and leaves the larger pans to soak before returning to draw her out of the chair by her hands. 

“Is okay, mila.”

“I've never done this before,” she admitted softly.

He licked his lips and tried not to let his more savage male instincts take over, but he knew it was too late from the way she jerked back at the sound he made. He tightened his hands to stop her.

“I… I'm sorry.”

“Ne,” he breathed. “Not be sorry. Is just… surprise… exes were fools to make heart so unsatisfied that they could not touch you.”

She looked up at him a little dumbfounded and he led her towards his bag to grab it and further back into the bedroom, turning off the lights as they went. He opened the door and licked his lips to see the incredibly romantic mood set in her bedroom, the flickering of the electric candles, a perfect imitation of the real thing. The scent of her bath salts and oils were faint in the room but stronger on her skin.

He kissed her gently.

“Probably not have right size,” he said, opening his bag to pull out the stash of condoms he bought for this weekend.

She opened the bedside table and let him look and he couldn't help but laugh. They were organized by size in the box, the extras she had to buy were as well, lined up alongside the sampler box. The fact that she did, in fact, have his size only made him laugh harder.

“Mila… where did you get these?” 

“They were on sale,” she said defensively and he laughed, the tentatively sexy mood broken by her explanation. “Near the Red Light District.”

He knew about her and her mother’s innate ability to find any sale, anywhere, and haggle like the best merchants in the world, but it was just too absurd for him not to laugh. The shop that carried the others she’d bought was on the side of town where all the brothels were, a large warehouse that supplied them all. The thought of highly logical Hermione going to  _ haggle _ for condoms anywhere, let alone a sex warehouse where they sold lube by the drum was just too much.

Hell, he hadn’t even known they carried his size and bought the box he brought online. He’d have to ask her where exactly the warehouse was as going to somewhere in London was far more convenient than waiting for them to arrive by mail. Gods help him if the fans ever found out where he lived and took his mail... he knew it happened and dreaded the day Rita Skeeter got a hold of his condom size. 

He would surely die of embarrassment.

“It's a sampler box, I… I wasn't sure.”

He licked his lips and sat down nodding his head, and lifting the unmarked pump bottle out of the drawer.

“It's...lube,” she said and he gave her an amused smile.

“Was it on sale?”

She crossed her arms, “It was. Ginny thought showing you the actual bottle I bought would have been too...much and send the wrong signal.”

Now he was dying to know what kind of bottle she was talking about. He licked his lips and reached for her, drawing her closer and setting his bag down beside the bed, foregoing the condoms for now and looking up at her, taking in her dress. At this point, it was best to keep her unfocused, best to keep the levity while moving matters along or her brain would turn back on and who knew what the hell would happen, would come out of her mouth if it did. 

She could reduce him to laughter or horror depending.

“Very sexy,” he said. “If I did not know better, I would say you try to seduce me, mila.”

She worried her lip, “It’s… a bit much…”

He nodded gripping her hips firmly and she gasped, her mouth open and her breath coming in short pants. She knew his hands were large, having held his hands and felt the dwarf her own, but never had it really clicked in her mind until now. He wrapped his hands around her hips, holding her still and it didn’t make her feel like she should be smaller in any way, just...it was perfect and rather exciting. 

“Is perfect,” he slurred drunk on the sight of her, the way she looked at him, all woman and timid, soft and pliant for him.

Her hips in his hands made him swoon a bit. He couldn't remember ever being so turned on at the sight of his hands on a woman's hips. Couldn't think of a woman he'd been with who looked so amazed and hot because of his hands on her hips either. And he would be the first, and if he could the only, man to ever make her feel like this.

He would have to remember to save a prayer of thanks to every god he'd ever known for this.

“They’re rather big,” she said, worrying her lip.

“My hands are big,” he said with a smile. “Is perfect fit, you will see.”

He pressed his head to the softness of her stomach to breathe her in and look up at her over between the valley her bra and dress made between her breasts. 

“Is okay?” he asked gently.

“I… I want to do it,” she said drawing back a step. “Though… I’m… nervous.”

He shook his head and stood up, “Together, then, yes?”

She let out a shuddering breath and nodded before reaching behind her to the zipper at the small of her back. He slid his hands over her neck to undo the delicate blood red tie and choked as the top slithered down and she presses the skirt of it over her hips leaving her in nothing but the gold bodysuit. 

_ Oh, fuck… _


	8. Okamoto 0.04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor's pretty sure... bronzed, antique looking gold is now his favorite color...
> 
> Also, he can't remember any woman tasting as good as Hermione does... He's pretty sure it isn't the bath stuff. 
> 
> Also, he guesses that it's time to reveal a few things...

To Hermione’s credit, she doesn’t flinch when the dress hits the floor and she knows for certain that he can see her in this ridiculous gold body suit, scandalous. She wonders if he can tell that it’s a thong. That she’s shaved, that she’s about ready to run into the bathroom in utter terror at the fact he’s going to laugh at her… Wondering if he can see the scars or not, if maybe she should have postponed this so the dredges of her parent’s death would be a little less noticeable. It was one thing to tell her that he found her attractive and another to actually  _ be _ attracted to her. She didn’t look at his face for a moment, but she had to just before she ran to confirm it. 

She looked up and saw an expression she wasn’t sure how to interpret. His expression was blank as if his mind was elsewhere, but there was no denying that he was looking at her, no way to deny that his eyes were dragging up and over every inch that it could until his eyes met her own shocked, deer in the head lights. She moved and he grabbed her firmly by the hips, keeping her still while he breathed rough and shallow. 

“Stay,” he ordered gruffly and she felt herself quake, a spike of something she wasn’t familiar with straight between her legs as her thighs pressed together on a reflex. 

She’s still in her heels making her rather tall, closer to his towering six foot six frame, but still so much smaller than him. She did as he ordered and remained still, her hair still over one shoulder, doing nothing to hide the lush volume of her breast that moved with her shallow, fearful panting as he moved to walk behind her and muttered something in Bulgarian that she gleaned as something relatively close to  _ sweet mother of god. _

“You will be death of me,” he said and slid his hands up the back of her thighs to squeeze her arse. 

She gasped, another shock of pleasure. Apparently, she really liked his hands or rather liked how much of her he could take in his hands. He was pretty sure that would translate well to manhandling her too.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, “On bed.”

She swallowed, but bent down to crawl onto the bed as he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of his pants and socks. She trembled closing her eyes as he leaned over her to kiss her ear. 

“So very beautiful,” he said, mouthing at the shell of her ear so she gasped and squirmed. “Down, mila. Will be good to you.”

“V-Viktor, I… I’ve never…”

He licked at the curve of her neck, groaning and nuzzling her as he grabbed a pillow to put under her hips. 

“I know,” he said. “Will go slow.”

“Not even… myself.”

He stilled and licked his lips, trying to keep from swooning at the rush that even this bit of movement brought him, pressing hard and unruly against his boxers. She was going to kill him from a heart attack or something before he even got a proper taste.

“Have… never?”

She shook her head, “I… I couldn’t figure it out… and there wasn’t--I was just too ashamed.”

And oh, how she'd tried after getting the sex talk several times from her father that all sounded like "don't do it". Then again from her mother which sounded like "be safe and it's incredibly relaxing." Hermione's logical brain had gone straight  to masturbating to avoid "doing it" and still reaping the benefits. In the end, she'd been too ashamed to get naked beneath her own blankets, alone in her own room to do much of anything. She'd watched porn to be sure she understood the mechanics and not seem too out of touch with reality when the time came, but she'd cringed at the thought of being naked _and_  on top of someone. 

Viktor had shoved all of that aside and revved her hormonal engines to Nitro. She wanted it and damn it she'd come this far so she was going to get it...

Provided he didn't laugh at her inexperience and ruin the whole night.

“Could teach, if you like,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “Would love to teach.”

She worried her lip, “It’s… not strange?”

He nuzzled her again and caught her ear between his teeth, caging her between the bed and his chest effectively. He was just so much _bigger_ than her, all hard angles and lean muscle. He was big for a rugby player, let alone a football player, but he was so stupidly fast with the ball that no one could doubt that he was made for it. He made her feel womanly in comparison, small and helpless in a good way. She didn’t want to fight, but to let him have whatever it was that he wanted.  It was a rather dangerous feeling to want to let go like this.

“Will go slow,” he promised. “Have all weekend, yes?”

She nodded nervously and he sat up. Viktor moved to sit on the other side of the bed before pulling her up and into his lap. She cried out, a little too turned on and a little surprised at how easily he moved her around. 

“You like?” he asked once she was straddling his thighs. “Like that I can move you?”

She nodded shakily, “I… I think so.”

“Is good,” he said kissing her briefly. “Would hate to do something you do not like.”

She smiled at him a little hopelessly as he looked at her and licked over the skin of her breast and groaned. 

“Sweet,” he said. 

“B-Bath stuff,” she stuttered.

“Also on sale yes?” She swatted him and he chuckled squeezing her arse, “Will taste later.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that but when he pressed a kiss to her hand she stilled. 

“Is important for you to know what you like,” he said, kissing her gently. “We’ll go slow, yes?”

She nodded and watched him reach for her breast and prompted her to do the same. She did so and followed his movements as he watched her. His rough fingers combined with the lace over her nipple sent a shock of something pleasurable through her. Her own hand faltered and he coaxed her into continuing as he kissed her collar and up her neck. 

“Is good, yes?”

She nodded placing her other hand on his shoulder as he kissed her and slowly let her take over, rubbing, squeezing her own breast as his hand went around her waist to settle on her bare arse and squeeze, praising her for being good, for not stopping for rolling her hips against his until he tugged the body suit aside and licked a long, stripe of pleasure across her breast, making her jump and cry out when his tongue passed her nipple. 

“Good, mila,” he said tugging her hand down so he could taste the other nipple briefly and guided her hand to her thigh, skimming lightly over her skin until she jerked in surprise and shame at their hands between her legs. Her own pressed gently against flesh swollen with need.

“Shh,” he hushed. “Am here. Together with you. Is okay.”

She bit her lip, even as he seemed to be panting and she was quickly losing sense of herself. She let him guide her hand where she’d never managed to touch before, feeling his eyes on her and trying not to squirm when he stopped.

“Mila,” he said softly making her open her eyes to meet his. “Look at me, okay? No shame. Only want to be good to you.”

She nodded and met his gaze, struggling to breathe as her fingers grazed gently, toyed at her first under his direction. He watched her, those dark eyes watching every shift in her expression as she gasped and her hips stuttered. Little spikes of pleasure causing her to gasp and moan softly. 

“Good,” he whispered. “Good girl.”

She writhed, moving a bit as he continued to just let her tease herself, holding her hand firmly in his own and watching until she couldn’t look at him anymore, overcome with new sensation. 

“V-Viktor.. I…”

He pressed her fingers more firmly against herself and she screamed his name, a raw heady bolt of lust hit him and made his eyes flutter at the sound of it. 

She would be the death of him, sounding like that. 

“Is good,” he panted, helping her. “Very good.”

She leaned into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he coaxed her gently with his voice and slowly let her take control until she was rolling her hips and pressing harder, desperate, her fingers slipping through desire and heaven and hell all at once because she needed--she needed--

“Ah!” Hermione cried when she’d thrust a little too hard and a finger slipped inside her, assuaging some desperate need and awakening another as he gripped her hips and made her move them so the rogue finger slipped deeper and her palm rubbed deliciously where she’d been so focused on before. 

“ _ Viktor… _ ” she moaned and he groaned, chanting in his mind that this was about her, about her learning, about feeling and exploring. That she needed him to be here for her as she did this and then he would taste. He had to show her that she could make herself feel good and there was nothing to be ashamed of--then he would get a chance to show her how good she could feel with him. 

“Viktor, it's--”

He hushed her, “Don't stop, Hermione. Don't stop, so good, skupa. You're such a good girl. Come for me, mila. Come for me.”

He only needed to say it once before her body, too tense to breathe broke and she cried out clinging to him, her hips stuttering in the aftermath and he stroked her hair slow and patient as she came back to herself.

“Is good, yes?”

Hermione shuddered, pulling back to pant and look at him, drawing her hand up from between her legs, before she could reach for the towels she'd placed beside her bed, he took her wrist and lapped at the sticky, slick on her fingers.

She gasped, staring transfixed by how utterly, blissful he looked and wondered for a moment if she really tasted that good. He looked at her curious expression and smirked, leaning to kiss her and thrust his tongue into her mouth so she could find out for herself. 

_ Cake, fruit... _ she was rather sweet beneath the salt and taste of her skin. She read somewhere that what she ate through the day would affect the way her body would react. Interesting that they hadn’t included the fact that eating practically all fruit and vegetables before would make her more receptive, but also make her taste better. 

“Am going too slow, if you have time to think,” he said looking down at her. 

She hadn’t even noticed that he’d turned them and laid her back on her bed. 

“S-Sorry… you know my brain never stops…”

“It will,” he said. “I promise.”

He grabbed the other pillow and the larger one at the top of her bed before turning her over to put them under her hips and spread her legs. She tensed as he reached for the nape of her neck and massaged gently.

“Shh, mila,” he said. “Is my turn.”

She swallowed, turning her head to look over her shoulder as he moved her hair off her neck to kiss at the top of her spine.

“T-To do what?”

“Taste,” he said simply. “This way to let you be embarrassed, give time to squirm...to relax, mila. Then, I turn you over and peel you out of this…”

He said skimming a finger beneath the thin gold lace settled over the curve of her ass. 

“Is okay?”

She swallowed and nodded, closing her eyes as he moved over her, carefully not to graze himself against her lest he lose cognition for a moment. He clasped her hands, pinning them down, and spread her knees with his own, placing kisses on her neck first and whispering to her.

“Am honored, skupa,” he said. “Honored you let me do this. Would not betray such precious gift...relax for me… trust me, glyka.”

She felt herself smile. It was her weakness, wasn’t it? A bit of Greek in his perfect accent, like walking up the steps of the Delphic temple. She felt herself let go a little bit at his ministrations and gentle words. His mouth was suffocatingly hot, making her toes curl and her hands clench his as he trailed kisses and his tongue down her neck and sucked at her shoulder, groaning at the pure carnality of it. 

“Krasiv,” he whispered along her spine, kissing and licking at his pleasure. She squirmed a little too exposed for comfort and running a little too tense for the slow torture he was administering.

“Not move,” he said releasing her hands to lick down her back and press a kiss to the swell of her ass before squeezing hard. “Beautiful.”

“I-I… I didn’t know you were an arse kind of guy.”

He chuckled at her attempt at levity, “Am you kind of guy.”

She closed her eyes, turning away to not look at him, trembling as he slid his hands down the back of her thighs and dipped his tongue between her cheeks with a soft groan as her breath caught.

“Shh,” he cooed, moving to lay down and wrap his arm around the juncture of her hips, taking the mounds of flesh in each hand and spreading them to see the slip of wet, golden fabric over her sex and up between her cheeks.

“V-Viktor,” she whimpered as he breathed hot and heavy over her.

“Relax, glyka,” he said gently and took a gentle, long lick that had her whole body tensing in an attempt to get away from the shock that ran through her.

His arms were well-trained and more than strong enough to hold her in place as he took his time lapping at her. She twisted and moaned, begging him for something she didn’t have a name for, so caught up in trying to keep a hold on reality, that she didn’t notice that he’d pulled the thong aside and pressed his tongue into her. 

At least until he started moving it and then there was no denying it. It was different than her finger, better from the pure carnal nature of it. His tongue in her, fucking her in a shallow imitation of what it would be like to have him in her. Hermione’s brain never stopped working, imagining it thicker, longer,  _ harder _ thrusting into her, the full weight of him and force of his hips thrusting, claiming her.

His shallow breathing in her ear--

He licked higher over her arse and she came trying to catch her shuddering breath as he continued to lick and tongue her through one orgasm and into another. 

“Oh… Viktor… I can’t…”

He didn’t bother to correct her even as she tried to get away, he only dragged her back, sitting up on his knees with her sex pressed against his face, tonguing her with a stiff tongue and sure bobs of his head. She reached for the headboard, trying to wiggle out of his iron hold, but she had no traction, her legs splayed helplessly around his head and the fear of potentially suffocating him, keeping her from closing them. 

She was trapped, forced to hold on for dear life as he had his fill of her. She couldn’t even remember that she was a person named Hermione, nor hear any of her insecurities for a while. When she remembered the four syllables she’d had all of her life, Viktor had laid her back down and turned her over to look at her still in the body suit, more clothed than he was, her dark skin glowing in the artificial candlelight. Her chest heaving. Eyes warm and her expression soft. Her hair splayed in soft waves and curves on the other pillows. He wiped his face, licking what he could and watched her with dark, sinful eyes that spoke volumes as he rested on his knees between her splayed legs, taking a distinctly male pleasure in watching her come down from the high he’d given her. 

He’d taken her there, taken her clear out of her mind with just his mouth. She was so damned responsive. Sure, she was a virgin, but this completely open, completely unguarded Hermione was more than just inexperienced. She was precious, opening herself completely to him to crawl into her inner spaces and meet her demons, angels, deepest fears and insecurities…

She trusted him and Gods how awe-inspiring it was.

“Hello,” he greeted once her eyes focused on him. “Are okay? Not hurt? Frightened?”

She gasped, her eyes burning and she shook her head, “Ne.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her gently, lovingly, “Thirsty, yes? Take break?”

She nodded, gratefully and smiled hopelessly as he moved to pull blankets over her so she wouldn’t be cold and moved the pillows which had been under her hips to the floor with another kiss to her forehead before leaving. She watched him walk, the flex of his shoulder muscles and his back above the tight green boxer briefs he wore. She remembered him telling her that he didn’t believe in the game superstitions like other players. The color of his underwear on game day was whatever was clean, comfortable, and on the top of the stack in his drawer. Uriel, however, always wore Bulgarian red saying that it was like borrowing a bit of strength from home to help the wimpy English men play.

Hermione couldn’t care what color his boxers were if he always looked so good in them. 

When he returned, he was drinking out of one and carrying a full glass for her. He set his empty glass on the bedside table and helped her sit up to drink as much as she liked before slipping under the covers with her.

She moaned at first touch, curling into him, “You’re so warm…”

He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her, leaning back against the pillows and the headboard, while taking the time to look around her bedroom. It was pretty close to what he expected. A collage of pictures from her schooldays, university, her parents, and vacations on the far wall. A bookshelf in the corner full of less literary novels than the bookshelf in her living room. The room was decorated in warm soft colors of turquoise and gold and browns. It felt earthy without being too dark. 

He kissed her head, “Are okay?”

She nodded and looked up at him, “Are you?”

He smiled lightly, “Will be.”

She sat up and eyed him, letting her eyes trail lower before realized that he sat consciously to obstruct her view. She reached for the blanket and Viktor held it still. 

Their eyes met and Hermione had the feeling that she wasn’t the only one with qualms about being naked with someone else.


	9. Sir Richard’s Extra Large

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think... the title says it all. 
> 
> Or, Viktor tells her his greatest secret and faces a rather large insecurity of his. Lucky for him, Hermione is sensible and they have plenty of lube.

He licked his lips a little nervously and an eyebrow drifted up on her face. He felt his cheeks heat as she tugged again and he wouldn’t let go. 

“Viktor?” She asked, concern in her voice and he sighed. 

“Is...complicated mila.”

Her brow furrowed and she let go of the blanket, drawing her knees to her chest and looking at him. 

“I’m listening.”

He wanted to groan, but took a deep breath and sucked it up. He was going to have to have this conversation, the way he’d had it before… Except those women were experienced and Hermione was not making it potentially all the more potentially embarrassing and complicated. 

“Am… rather… well… what is word?” She waited, watching him puzzle it out. “Am… dragon? _ ” _

She gave him a confused look and watched him turn even more red, running his hand over his face and through his hair. 

“A… tosser?”

“You’re not a tosser.”

He groaned, “Packing?”

“Packing what?” she eyed him. “I don’t think you’re the kind to carry around a gun in your underwear.”

“ _ Perhaps Magnum, _ ” he grumbled and tried to search his knowledge of English slang and try not to die of mortification. “Stretcher?”

“Well, of course, you have to stretch, you’re an athlete--”

“Am built like tripod!” he all but yelled, covering his face and his flushing cheeks. 

She blinked and her eyes widened before looking down to his carefully covered lap as he tried not to be completely mortified. 

“Viktor…” she said, “Are you… telling me that you’re…  _ well-endowed? _ ”

He let out a desperate sound, “Da… well-endowed.”

“I… I thought that was a good thing?”

He looked at her completely lost, “Is… warning. Do not wish to scare you.”

Hermione gave him a wry smile, “It just sounds like the bottle I bought will be perfect.”

She reached for the blanket again, “It’s okay...I trust you.”

He swallowed and held on to the blanket, “I… I have never been with virgin, but...I have never hurt any woman either. Will be careful...I promise, just…”

She let go again and looked at him, “There’s something else?”

Viktor let out a breath, “Call me...porn star...convinced I was… with other women because…”

“Because you have a big dick?”

He grunted, not expecting such a thing from her mouth and being incredibly turned on by it. 

“Please mila, not say that way… will make it worse.”

“You… like dirty talk,” she said with a smile. “Like… really bad pornos?”

He looked at her and scoffed, “What you know of porno?”

“I know enough to know that the term would be _monster cock_.”

He groaned, “Da… is what was said.”

Hermione placed a hand on his and met his eyes, “I’m… pretty sure I’d fall under a fetish category too… and being well-endowed doesn’t make you a cheater, Viktor.”

He could think of several at the moment, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Think we’d fall under even more,” she said. “Foreign… Interracial… Ebony…. _S_ _ tud… _ ”

He nodded his head, “You watch porn.”

“I researched,” she said, fiddling with the blankets, “I… I didn’t want to disappoint you by… being completely unaware and inexperienced.”

“Unbelieveable,” he said and sat back, relinquishing the blanket. “Just… promise not freak out. I promise to take care of you. We do not have to--”

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips and moved the blanket to see. The first thing she noticed was the dark spot in his underwear and the fact that he tucked left down the length of the leg of his boxers, a phrase she’d learned from listening to two boys talk about things around her and being completely oblivious that while she was “one of the guys” she didn’t really have the equipment to talk about “tucking” strategies.

The next thing was that he wasn’t just long, but thick too, hard enough to press against the seam of his underwear and pushing the fly apart so she could see the red, engorged flesh of his cock. She swallowed reaching out and at first touch he tensed and sucked in a breath, but he didn’t move otherwise, only watching her.

She swallowed, perhaps her need to know things making her brave. Hermione stuck her hand into the fly of his boxers and he slammed his fist on the bed, his head back against the headboard with a pained grunt, biting his lip. She drew back at the reaction as he panted, his arms tense from balling his fists. 

“I-I didn’t--”

“Did not hurt,” he said stiffly. “Am okay, promise.”

She swallowed and reached for the lube on the bedside table and Viktor sucked in a breath knowing that he was going to stay still and let her explore, let her torture him.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck… _

Hermione set the lube aside and perused her mental library of porn research she’d done ever since she’d begun her mission to sex her boyfriend properly as she pulled Viktor’s half erect cock out of the boxer leg and through his fly. She swallowed around the dryness in her mouth as his cock seemed to quite appreciate the freedom and continue to swell until he was fully hard. A quick glance at her hands for comparison told her that he was definitely larger, a lot larger, than average and she would need both hands, so she pumped more lube than she thought she needed spread it over both hands, bit her lip and wrapped her hands around him. His entire body jerked and he let out a pained moan and breath.

“ _ Hermione, _ ” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden rush of slick, warm, wet friction. “ _ Glyka... “ _

Since he didn’t seem to be in pain, nor pushing her away, she assumed that it felt good, but she asked to be sure, stroking slowly and marveling at the heat of it in her hands, the weight and size.

“ _ Se chuvstvash dobre? _ ”

“ _ Da, _ ” he moaned brokenly. “ _ Poveche, lyubov. Poveche.” _

She squeezed a little harder, watching his eyes roll back and his body tense as she stroked him. She could almost feel his thudding heart from the pulsing of his cock, hot and full, straining and glad for the attention. She squirmed, pressing her thighs together and finally understood what was so captivating about making someone else feel good and being able to watch them fall apart.

It was addicting even, empowering to just see him doing his best to stay still, to watch her watching him, her hands on his cock, stroking him hard and slow, twisting at the head as if she’d done it before. 

Gods be praised for her steel-trap mind, always extrapolating--

He watched her head dip, her tongue tentative to press at the slit and he heard his own voice, more a roar than anything as he came and swore that he was going to fucking die. He panted, squeezing his eyes shut and begging her to stop so he could be sure he was still alive.

He’d never come that hard, clearly, it had been too long. He panted and opened his eyes to see her face splattered with cum, down her neck and the top of her breasts and he stared, transfixed as she didn’t seem offended, her eyes hot as she wiped a finger through it and he was sure--

She stuck her finger in her mouth, he grunted and felt his erection, which had begun to abate, spring back to life as she met his gaze, curious and hot. When he could breathe again, he moved to wipe her face and breasts clean and cup her jaw.

“You… will be death of me.”

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him,  feeling a little confident in the aftermath. He took his time pulling her closer and reaching for her hips. 

It would be an incredibly long weekend and he wasn’t sure how far they’d go, but he knew it would be far enough that he wouldn’t be able to think clearly for a little while. When she settles into his lap, the thin material barely separating him things get more than a little fuzzy. Her hips are rolling over the length of his cock, teasing him and spreading the hot slickness over him, soaking his boxers and his hips are pressing up to tumble them over. 

She’s so soft and strong, clinging to him as they kiss and grind like horny teenagers. He can honestly say he hadn’t felt this keyed up, turned on and generally sexually desperate since he’d been in high school.

It’s a frantically tenuous session of almost-sex that leaves them both warm, breathless and sticky. In the end, it’s Viktor who gets them both out of their underwear. He peels off his boxers and her out of her body suit before carrying her towards the bathroom to wash up.

When he turned on the light, he hadn’t expected her to shriek, but she did and pressed herself closer to him, begging him not to look. It was rather hard not to over the curve of her back. Rather than answering her, he took two full handfuls of her arse and squeezed, delighted and turned on. She squeaked at the insistent press of his cock against her.

“Mila, is rather hard not to look,” he said and kissed her head. “What is it you wish me not to see?”

“Everything,” she stammered squeezing him tightly. “I’m… I...It’s different in the dark, you couldn’t--”

“Mila, I want to see,” he said. “Have no idea how beautiful you are.”

She looked up at him hesitantly, but again, the heat in his eyes was honest, the warmth of his hands squeezing her arse and hips was telling. To him, she was beautiful… Couldn’t that count for something? Viktor turned her gently and tapped her rear to herd her into the shower before turning on the shower. 

“Wet hair is okay?”

She nodded, one of the many advantages to being a Naturalista. He kissed her cheek and reached for her loofa and soap. After lathering it up he set to work washing her.

“V-Viktor,” she started and he placed a firm hand on her back, holding an ankle where it was as he kneeled behind her. 

“Hands on wall,” he said. “Relax, mila.”

She trembled but did as he commanded, trying not to squirm as he drew his hands over her slow and patient, kneading at the tension, teasing her gently until she was fully soaped up and he could turn on the rest of the shower system. 

The shower was made for sex, yet he knew that she hadn’t bought it with that in mind. Instead, he pressed up against her, a hand between her legs, the other playing with her nipples as she shuddered and begged him to let her move.

“Ne,” he said. “Let me touch, yes?”

Her head bowed beneath the spray she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to keep her legs beneath her, spread around his feet and helpless.

“Beautiful,” he said with a smile as she panted and came down. 

Water rushed hot over her skin and he maneuvered her to sit down on the built in seat before turning to clean himself up.

She looked at him curiously, the suds running over the planes of his back, over his heavily muscled body. He was hard, achingly so, standing straight out as she quaked sitting on the bench. 

“Are okay, mila?”

She nodded and reached out a hand to place on his hip. He watched her wondering what was going through her mind as he stepped closer allowing her better--

He choked as she opened her mouth and licked at the head of his cock. His hand flew out to brace himself on the wall wishing more than anything that she’d given him some warning, but not caring as he watched her to shy glances at him with her mouth on his cock. 

His heart thudded hard against his chest like he’d been running the field all day. He refused his instincts to thrust forward and let her take it at her own pace. Her own _torturous_ pace, sliding him deeper into her mouth, full lips stretched around him and her small brown hands wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking what she couldn’t fit in her novice mouth.

“Hermione,” he breathed as she bobbed her head tentatively. “Love… is…  _ fuck _ .”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously and she sucked particularly hard making him cry out and his hips stutter, gracing the back of her throat he felt and he pulled back expecting her to gag, but it never came.

“M-Mila?” He asked looking down at her.

She looked up at him her mouth open around him and not offering any explanation. Who cared if the idiot, novice doctor who'd removed her tonsils had ruined her gag reflex as well? If Viktor really wanted to know, he'd ask again later.

He licked his lips and drew a hand through her hair, cupping her head in his hand and thrusting slowly with groan, never looking away from her.

“So  _ beautiful _ ,” he said. “ _ So… mila, I… _ ”

It started in his chest oddly enough, a tight feeling that spread and burst through him with pleasure dancing on his nerve endings. He moved to pull away, but her mouth sucked and held him there until the trembling stopped and he slipped free of her mouth only slightly deflated. He wasn’t exactly a teenager any longer, so there was no reason that he should have still been hard. Then again, he hadn’t ever really encountered a woman who did this to him. 

She looked up at him, her jaw trembling and her eyes frightened. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her gently. 

“I love you,” he said softly and felt her lips lift into a small smile.

“ _ Obicham te _ ,” she replied and it felt like warmth, home, and happiness. 

He turned off the shower and got her onto her feet. They ate the rest of the cheesecake and crawled into her bed after she’d braided her hair up into her usual style. Naked, warm, sated, and happy, sleep came easily…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Se chuvstvash dobre?” = Does it feel good?
> 
> “Poveche, lyubov. Poveche.” = More, love. More.


	10. Durex Maximum Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one, not even Ron or Cormac, the entire International Football League, Rita Skeeter or anything else would get in her way. 
> 
> This was happening.

Sleep ended abruptly with the sound of his alarm clock at six o’clock. She heard him cursing, fumbling with the phone and laughed, unable to shake how ridiculous it was.

“What’s the alarm from?”

“Run,” he said shaking his head, “Am sorry.”

She shook her head, “Do you need to go?”

He nodded his head, “Is day of game. No running.”

She nodded and scooted closer as he made sure the only alarm left active on his phone would be the one to tell him to get ready to meet his team for the game that evening. He wakes up without the alarm, alone and to the smell of breakfast. The midday light spilled across the hallway, but not through her blackout curtains. He got out of bed and tugged on a clean pair of boxers, smiling at the sight of his clothes and hers in her dirty laundry basket, including the gold bodysuit which had been  _ far _ too much for his poor brain to handle.

The woman would probably never cease to bring him to his knees.

“Good Morning,” she greeted, wrapped in a silky robe that was more lace and sheer material than anything. 

“Morning,” he greeted looking at her and licking his lips, “Mila… is not what I expect…”

She looked at him fearfully, “Wh-What do you mean?”

“Have been, how do you say… Holding out on me… Mila, personality say fluffy, cozy bathrobe… this is surprise.”

She looked away, turning to the stove.

“I-I… don’t like the way most robes feel.”

Viktor approached her, placing his hands on her hips and then wrapping around her waist, “Have said something to hurt you, yes? Am sorry, mila, did not mean to.”

She shook her head and let out a breath, “I… guess I’m just a little jittery.”

Viktor shook his head and removed the skillet from her hands and pulled her back against him.

“I like this,” he said honestly. “Like knowing more of you. Like silky robe and loose jumper, bookshelves and gold, okay?”

She nodded and squeezed his hand. 

“I like cheesecake and football too,” she said honestly. “Monster cock and green boxers.”

He grinned and kissed the side of her head, “What is for breakfast?”

“Steak, eggs, pancakes, yogurt...cheesecake if you want it.”

Viktor smiled, “Anything you make, mila.”

They eat comfortably, sitting at her table, smiling at one another. When it's time, Viktor gets into his uniform and joggers, his tennis shoes with his cleats in his go bag and she puts on a sweater dress she'd been saving for something like this and knee high boots, a team scarf, and her hair down.

He took her hand and led her out of her apartment and for a long time she doesn't feel eyes on her skin. They take a cab to the field and he gives her a ticket to sit down while he meets up with his team. He's pretty sure that the journalists have started to notice her as she walked towards the section usually reserved for the player’s family and people who really didn’t mind spending a lot on a football game ticket.

Viktor walked into the locker room only to be assaulted with noise. Catcalls and jeers about the lovely “Nubian Queen” he'd been seen with.

“How went your night?”

He grinned at Uriel, “Let’s go to the World Cup.”

The locker room went up in cheers, the familiar cadence of the team’s fight song washing over him. They would be playing the World Cup if they won this game. He stretched and got ready, singing along with the rest of the team and breathing deeply. 

*

“Hermione?”

She turned her head to see Ron and looked at him coming closer with Harry and Ginny just behind. 

“Hello, Ron.”

He looked at her as she regarded him, “You… You look great. H-How have you been?”

It had been… all of a few months since she’d last seen Ron at Harry and Ginny’s Housewarming party. She stood to greet them and Ginny let out a low whistle. 

“Look at you,” Ginny said with a smile. “I guess I was right to assume things went well….”

She beamed, “Yes. Very well.”

Ginny grinned and came up to link arms with her, “How good? Very good? Did you use the jaw move?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yes. I did and… we haven’t… had sex yet, but...we got… pretty close.”

Ginny grinned and bumped hips with her, “Way to go.”

“What are you two talking about?”Harry asked coming to hug Hermione.

“Hermione’s going to get laid!”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. Harry paled and Ron flushed. Ginny had the nerve to look proud of herself. 

“What? With who? What?” Harry stammered. “Wh-When did you start dating seriously? I thought he was just--What?”

Ginny shook her head, “Stay out of Hermione’s bedroom.”

“What?” Ron asked standing. “Who is this guy?”

Hermione glared at Ginny briefly before looking at Harry, “Calm yourself, Harry, you act like I’m your fifteen-year-old daughter or something. And it’s none of your business--”

“It’s Cormac, isn’t it?” Ron asked eyeing her. “I thought--”

“Are you asking me to control me or out of actual interest, Ron?” Hermione asked looking at him.

Ron grits his teeth then Harry blinked, so very easily distracted as he was. 

“Hermione… what are you doing at a football game anyway? How’d you get these seats?”

“My boyfriend,” she said politely with a helpless smile. “He’s a football player.”

Harry nodded and the announcement went up that the game was about to start. Ginny winked at her and took her seat in the row behind Hermione. She realized then why Ron was so suspicious, the team they were playing was Chudley and apparently Cormac had finally gotten onto the team. She clapped for him, happy that he’d finally achieved his dream while wishing more than anything that Manchester United would grind them into the dust. 

“Aren’t you wearing the wrong colors?” Ron sneered eyeing her scarf.

“Nope,” she said politely as the Manchester team arrived on the field and she cheered loudly for them. Uriel and Viktor bumped forearms as Uriel went to take his place in the goal and Viktor moved towards the line. The team captain went up for the coin toss and they were on the defensive. 

She read enough about football to understand the game, but this would be the first time that she would be witnessing it in person, let alone watching Viktor play. He was an impressive specimen on the field, at least a head taller than most of his team and broader. Uriel just happened to be about the same size. Despite his height, Viktor was pretty much unparalleled in speed and agility. 

“Go Krum! Go!” She refused to smile knowing that Ron was cheering for Viktor, but she felt Ginny nudge her knowingly. 

It seemed that the Chudleys understood that so long as they kept enough people on Viktor they could have a fighting chance. Which is how he ended up staring three defenders down as he ran the ball forward. 

What they didn’t understand is that he wasn’t interested in being stopped. So he passed the ball down field and evaded the group to back up his team member. The man took the shot, but Cormac caught it full in the chest, diving across the goal.

Bradley cursed, but Viktor shook his head at him. It was okay, it was only Bradley’s first game and he’d made a valiant shot. He’d been working on the speed of his shots with Viktor for the months leading to his starting game. The Chudleys kept Viktor covered throughout the game and while Uriel was, as usual, a golden glove. Cormac wasn’t letting any goal go either. The Chudleys had gotten stronger runners it seemed that could keep up with Manchester’s other forwards. Their captain called a huddle at halftime. 

“Fucking hell,” Bradley panted, drinking water. “It’s like you’re covered in honey.”

Viktor chuckled and nodded looking to their captain. 

“Wood’s smart,” he said. “Putting all those defenders on you.”

Viktor nodded, “I can get past them, but someone needs to carry the ball.”

Someone nodded and this time they went out on the field and Viktor took a glance towards the section where she was sitting. Cheering and smiled, wondering if she was actually enjoying watching him play.

“Are you going to get fancy for your lady love?” Bradley asked nudging him. Viktor laughed, running a hand through his hair, slick with sweat and breathing deeply. 

“Perhaps.”

Hermione isn’t sure what’s happening, quite honestly. At one point, Viktor was surrounded and then he seemed to be barreling towards Cormac leaving the rest of Chudleys behind him. Cormac seemed to steel himself for the attack but the ball went flying like cannon between his legs, close enough to the ground to not brush him, but just above the ground, hitting the back of the net solidly. 

She heard herself cheering loudly with the rest of the stadium, clapping, “ManU! ManU!”

“Krum! Krum! Krum! Krum!”

She laughed as he high-fived a team member as he passed and Cormac was flushed with rage. 

“ _ What a shot ladies and gentlemen. What can we expect from Viktor “Krazy” Krum. _ ”

“ _ Seems like he’s taken off the kid gloves, you think it has anything to do with that lovely woman he was seen with this afternoon? _ ”

Uriel laughed and his teammates joined in as Viktor came back to their side of the pitch. 

“ _ I don’t know, but I could guess. _ ”

“Well does it Viktor?” Liam asked shoving him. 

Viktor grinned at him as they set up for the next play. 

The Chudley forward came hard down the center, evading and passing around their defense. Uriel caught it rather easily and threw it down field to where Bradley waited to head but it towards the path Viktor was making up the pitch. Defenders gathered and he shot it around them for Bradley to carry to the goal. Cormac stood and sprung forward just a hair too late to stop the ball, but his hand diverted it to bounce on the goal post. Bradley kicked it into the opposite corner of the goal, winning them the second point of the game. 

Viktor yelled down the pitch,  running at him to pick up and spin him around. 

“ _ Beautiful assist by Krum with a killer goal by Jacobs. Chudley is going to have to work to overcome this momentum. _ ”

“ _ Seems like there’s a bit of grudge going on. Usually, Manchester would prefer to just hold the 2 point lead. _ ”

“ _ If I’m not mistaken, something did happen between some of the players of Manchester and players from Chudley when the playoffs began… _ ”

She frowned, she hadn’t known that.She could guess that it had something to do with Manchester’s team make-up and the fact that the Chudley Cannons had wanted to recruit Uriel, but he went with Viktor to ManU.

In the end, it came down to several penalty kicks, all of which Uriel caught with unerring skill and pitched down field. Hermione almost laughed. She knew that Uriel and Viktor had grown up together, played all through high school and college together, but it was something else to see it in action. Viktor went running towards the goal without even looking back at Uriel. 

Uriel sent the ball sailing through the air and it landed exactly where Viktor needed it before he sent it rushing through the air. With the swish of the net came the buzzer to signal the game over. 

Manchester United would be representing the United Kingdom in the World Cup and she wasn’t sure who was the more excited about it, the crowd or the team. Cormac growled and when they lined up to shake hands she could almost see his bitter expression but cheered louder.

“Quite impressive,” Ginny commented. “Think he was showing off?”

Hermione gave her a shy smile and a nudge before they headed out of the stands. Harry, Ginny, and Ron were heading home to get ready for the party. She met Viktor and Uriel by the lockers and squeaked as he picked her up and spun her around. 

She laughed as he kissed her smelling of the field and happiness. The rest of the team came out by to meet her, joking about her being the muse behind Viktor’s performance while giving Viktor saucy winks. They headed back to her condo to get cleaned up and shower. 

Viktor is partially surprised but mostly turned on by the burning red of the lingerie she'd worn to the game. It's enough to get her flat on her back and his mouth on her while he peeled her free of it. She's absolutely gorgeous, moaning and quaking beneath him. In the shower, he slips his fingers into her and tells her to beg to come. It's the sexiest thing he's ever seen and such a fucking power rush that he's tempted to do it again, but with his cock in her. When he sees her in the periwinkle dress, he has to remind himself that his coach would murder him if he skipped this because he couldn't keep his hands to himself. 

“You make me a teenager again,” he almost glowered at her as she fixed her hair in the mirror. It's down and he wonders if she does it because it's clear he likes it or if she likes it down. Both are intriguing considering how she usually wears it.

He'd like to think it was the former and she was feeling that comfortable with him.

They catch a cab to the hotel where the mixer is being held. Viktor manages to sneak them past the journalists and into the event without incident. Uriel spots them first.

“Sneaky,” he said clapping slowly before reaching for Hermione’s hand to kiss. “It's because McLaggen is hogging the spotlight.”

Viktor laughed and before long Harry found her and gawked.

“Hermione?”

She smiled, “Hi Harry. Viktor this is Harry, probably my best male friend from school and his girlfriend and my illustrious spiritual sister--Ginny. Ginny, Harry, this is Viktor, my boyfriend.”

He shook his head and offered him his hand to shake, “Is honor to meet you. Hermione speak of you fondly.”

Harry stared at him dumbstruck, “No, it's my honor.  Wow. I mean...you're…”

Ginny laughed, “God Harry, stop fangirling. Just ask the man for his autograph.”

Viktor laughed, “Would be glad to.”

Harry fumbled looking for something when Ginny pulled Harry’s autograph book out of her purse along with a pen.

“What would you do without me?” she asked sweetly.

Viktor grinned and signed before handing it back to Ginny as Harry flushed and tried to change the subject. They chatted for just a moment before Hermione went to find something to snack on despite Viktor’s protest that he could get it for her.

“I will be back,” she said. “I promise not to escape without you.”

He snorted but let her go towards the hor d'oeuvres table. She was deciding between mini quiches or pate and crackers when she heard his voice.

“Manchester or Chudleys?”

She turned to see the smirking face of Cormac McLaggen. 

His eyes are heated, raking over her and she catalogs that the look does nothing to undo the crawling beneath her skin.

“Hello Cormac,” she greeted kindly. “Congratulations on making the team.”

His eyebrow lifted and his eyes narrowed a bit trying to place her face before his eyes widened.

“H-Hermione?”

“Hello,” she greeted, deciding on quiches and regarding him. “How have you been?”

“Uh,” he started. “G-Great… What are you doing here? You… didn’t really like football when we were together.”

She chuckled, “I didn’t like you quoting stats at me ad nauseam, but I have nothing against the sport.”

He swallowed and eyed her, “So… you here with Weasley then? Who’s he playing for now?”

“Ron’s coaching a high school team now,” she said. “And no… I’m not here with him.”

“Single then?” He asked sliding closer, she stepped aside and he frowned. “What?”

“I’m here with my boyfriend, actually.”

He gave her a look, “Boyfriend… And… who is this man that managed to get you out of those jumpers and into…  _ this _ ?”

“Viktor Krum.”

He flushed and she smiled kindly looking over to where Viktor was standing with Harry and Ginny, looking at her, keeping an eye on her and Cormac. 

“Right… didn’t know you had a thing for… his sort,” Cormac said. “Glad you found someone that could get you out of those horrid clothes.”

Hermione looked, “He didn’t get me out of anything.”

Cormac gave her a strange look and she bade him goodbye to head back towards Viktor when Ron appeared. 

“Hermione,” he started. “What…”

“Hello Ron,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I… I wanted to talk to you. You know… about us and…”

Hermione shook his head, “Ron, I’m dating. Happily, really. When we split, I meant what I said.”

Ron stammered, “But--”

She shook her head and pat his shoulder, “There’s no buts. If you’d excuse me.”

She moved around him and arrived at Viktor’s side offering him quiche off her plate as he slid an arm around her waist and kissed her temple. She smiled at his affection, glad to have his warmth pressed up against her as they continued through the party, smiling, shaking hands until the Manchester coach pronounced that Viktor had done his due diligence of showing his face and they escaped out the back.

“You… date McLaggen before, yes?”

She looked at him, “Yes.”

Viktor nodded, tugging her close and sighing comfortably, “He glare at me all night… red haired man too.”

“That’s Ron.”

Viktor shook his head, “Fool both of them.”

Hermione smiled leaning against him, “Yes. But that doesn’t matter now.”

He grinned, “Ne. It doesn’t.”

“Viktor?”

He looked at her and she smiled, “Make love to me tonight?”

Viktor closed his eyes, letting a strangled and desperate sound out of his chest before cupping her jaw and pressing a kiss between her eyebrows.

“Whenever you wish.”


	11. L. (Do {each other} Good)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission accomplished.

It seemed odd that he wasn’t all over her when they get out of the cab and take the elevator up to the seventh floor, just holding her hand sweetly and smiling at her. He squeezed her hand gently as they neared her door and let her open the door before ushering her inside. 

As he expected, she didn’t turn to look at him, preferring not, trying to get her heart under control as he locked the door and removed her keys from her hand to hang on the hook she kept them on. Set her clutch down on the shelf by the door and kissed her shoulder as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up. He took off his shoes and helped her do the same before taking her by the hips and spinning her around to kiss. 

She trembled in his arms and he hushed her, turning off the light and picking her up to wrap her legs around his waist as he kissed her gently and walked towards her bedroom through the dark. 

The candles seemed to only turn on when the room was dark, which was a rather nice feature considering. 

She moaned and whimpered as he lay her down on the bed, moving only enough to get his shirt off and his hands under her dress. 

He could have cried seeing the light blue lace between her thighs and the thin trail leading up towards her breast. 

Did she always wear things like this beneath her clothes? He doubted it, but it would burn his brain every time he saw her with wanting to know what delicious thing she was wearing beneath her adorable jumpers and slacks.

“Beautiful,” he said kissing the valley between her breasts before turning his head to tongue a nipple through the thin cups.

His hands between her thighs as she squirmed, rubbing and coaxing her towards her first orgasm of the night gently. He makes her feel precious and fragile, the way he makes sure to stretch her slowly and kiss her tears away when she feels like she's exploding apart with far too much pleasure. The way he asks if she's hurting in a tender low tone while whispering how much he loves her, how honored he is to be with her.

How much he wants it to be good for her.

“Promise,” he said gently. “Promise.”

She's practically boneless, thoughtless when he gets undressed fully and rolls a condom on, never leaving her. Powerful shoulders and deep eyes over her as he strokes her hair and drags himself through her slick folds.

“V-Viktor, please…”

He hushed her, listening to her pleading as he teased her, the way she seemed about ready to come and waited, screwing his eyes shut and speaking to her gently, the depth of his voice washing over her in time with the teasing thrusts against her. When she chokes on her breath, he slides into her just enough that she doesn’t notice the shock of fullness, but comes spasming around him as he slid deeper. Her arms tense around his neck, her entire body tightens, panting through an orgasm that seems to have no end and Viktor slid his hand into her hair, the other hand around her waist to pull her up against him and thrust slowly, getting deeper on every stroke as she came. 

She can’t hear anything, but she knows he’s talking, knows she’s babbling something. She tastes salt in her mouth, the salt of his skin as her lips press an open mouth kiss on his shoulder and he pulls her up. 

Her arms tighten feeling her body leave the bed as he readjusted her to get his arms under her knees, his large hands on her arse and to stroke into her deep enough that she can’t think, slow enough that she can feel every bit of friction, every drag of him and the full weight and heat of him in her and hold on for dear life as she’s sure that she isn’t supposed to feel like this. She isn’t supposed to feel like pure light and heaven has flooded her brain blocking out everything that isn’t the slow drag of his cock in her. 

Her desperate moans, every hitch of breath, echoes somewhere in his mind where he’s aware that she’s a virgin, that he needs  to continue to be gentle with her even as he holds her open and thrusts into her as deep as he can, relishing the way her body can only tense around him as if he was keeping her in the throes of orgasm. 

His own orgasm zaps all the strength out of his body and he knows somehow that there wouldn’t be another round from the way she relaxes into the bed. He slides out gently and watches her body quake with aftermath pleasure still in her veins. 

He let out a breath and kissed her cheek, her nose and lips murmuring softly to her as she whimpered and relaxed into sleep. After pulling off the condom and tying it off to toss into the trash can, he grabbed a towel to wipe them both down with, pressing gentle kisses to her neck and kneading the muscles in her thighs. She sighed, unconscious and warm under his ministrations. When he felt that she wouldn’t be too sore, he reached for the blankets and pulled them up and over them to pull her close so she could feel him there beside her and keep her warm as she was bound to be dropping from the high. 

She whimpered and he pulled the blanket higher, stroking her hair and speaking in gentle Bulgarian to him as his brain was just too fried for English. Eventually, he followed her into a dreamless sleep.

Warm.

Sated.

Happy.

*

Viktor wakes up with Hermione still asleep in his arms and smiles. The electric candlelight still low in the darkness of her blacked-out bedroom. Her phone buzzed nearby and he reached for it, to answer it and keep her sleeping.

“ _ Hermione? _ ” A female voice asked, a little flared with an accent. “ _ Mon ami, how did it go? _ ”

“Sorry. Hermione is sleeping. Will have her call back.”

“ _ Oh, mon ami--...Viktor? _ ”

He frowned and looked at the phone and his eyes widened at the name. 

“ _ Fleur? _ ” he asked looking down at Hermione. “How is it you know Hermione?”

“ _ Oh mon ami, is good to hear your voice. See you on television beating that cretin McLaggen. We will catch up soon, no? I hope you have enjoyed the lingerie. I thought it would look best on her and hoped to design something for your girlfriend. Two bird's one stone as the English say. _ ”

He smirked, somehow he had a feeling that she would say such a thing. In the end, she promises to get his information later and hangs up with much love. Viktor puts the phone back on the table and lays back down to cuddle her closer. 

He dozes off, despite his hunger, because he doesn’t want her waking up alone. When she comes to, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to eat his own arm. Her eyes open slowly, warm and sultry to his face and smile. 

“Hello,” she said softly. 

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her nose, “Hello. In pain?”

She shook her head. She didn’t really feel anything but warm.

“Fleur called you,” he said. “You are friend of hers?”

“She’s Ginny’s sister-in-law.”

He nodded remembering the ginger haired man that he’d met some time ago. He told her that he was going to slip to the bathroom and then make food. She nodded watching him and snuggling a little more into the warm spot left behind beneath the blankets. He smiled and went to the bathroom. It isn’t long before she hears the toilet flushing that she’s sent the text. The water runs and then there’s Viktor’s laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” She asked sitting up, her body still tingling.

He opened the door regarding the large bottle of lube grinning devilishly, just a lock of hair grazing his forehead, naked leaning his large frame against the door.

“I… can think of how to use this,” he said regarding it. “Was… on sale, yes?”

She threw a pillow at him as he crossed the room to sit it on the bedside table before pulling out the box of condoms he’d bought and setting it beside the bottle. It was definitely the deluxe package and she looked at him as he grinned. 

“On sale.”

She scrunched her nose, “Hah. Hah.”

“Try,” he said gently and grabbed for the boxers on the floor. “Should have breakfast, yes?”

She nodded and moved to get out of bed before realizing that her legs just weren’t going to cooperate. Viktor caught her easily and settled her back in the bed. 

“What did you do to my legs?!”

Viktor laughed and pressed a kiss to her head, “No worry. Will get better later. Will bring breakfast to you.”

Hermione let him tuck her back in while trying to figure out why her legs seemed so weak. He returned a while later with food and got into bed beside her eating as she did so. They found that they were far hungrier than they thought and finished off the tray together. He carried it back to the kitchen before returning and snuggling up to her. 

“Is this… a normal occurrence?”

“What?”

“You making women’s legs stop working?”

He looked at her warily but he could only see humor in her brown eyes. 

“Is... problem?”

“So who is it?”

His stomach twisted, “What?”

“Which sex god happens to be your grandfather or something? I got to know. Himeros? Eros? Cupid?”

He blinked and found himself laughing, “Ne. human grandfather.”

She huffed, “Right… well… we’ll chock it up to my inexperience.”

“Not prowess?”

She smiled at him, “Maybe, we’ll see.”   



	12. One (The Legend)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because at the rate they go-- 36 just isn't enough.

The stadium is loud, but he can’t hear it running across the field, desperately racing the clock. Three injured, they needed to score this or they’d go into overtime and he was pretty sure they weren’t going to be able to do it no matter how hard they fought.

That trophy was coming home with them damn it!

Hermione yelled from her seat, cheering for Viktor as he streaked across the pitch rushing at the goalie who had, for most of the game, blocked pretty well. He wasn’t Uriel who seemed to magic the ball into his hands, but he was good. 

Hermione bit her lip glancing at the clock watching Viktor run with the ball at his top speed and a single minded determination on his face. 

He was so beautiful. He kicked and she watched the angle. It wasn’t going to make it.

“ _ Krum goes for the goal it looks like Valentino will--” _

The ball curved just a little, changing directions sharply as it rebounded from the goal post and shot into the opposite corner. The buzzer went off and the entire stadium along with her went up in cheering. 

The United Kingdom had won the world cup. 

“ _ Unbelieveable folks! Krum’s Magic Ball has scored the goal. The UK wins the World Cup! _ ”

His team members ran at him launching themselves at him in a loud cloud of cheering as they celebrated on the field.  If perhaps Viktor doesn’t wait until he’d clean to grab Hermione out of her seat and twirl her around, happy. He’s pretty sure the kiss they share is going to end up on the front cover tomorrow, but he can’t care. He forgoes staying out long with his teammates to take Hermione back to his hotel room and proceed to claim his actual prize. 

“Show me,” he said with a grin, sitting down. The blinds were closed, door locked. She worried her lip but set about stripping to reveal it. 

Fleur had outdone herself. A perfect mock up of his U.K. jersey in terms of color, but a fitted bustier bra top, a thong with flashed holding up thigh high stockings striped like soccer sock, she’d already been wearing heels with her fitted jeans and sweater. 

He took a deep breath as she turned, taking down her hair and letting him see the back. Very cheeky, nearly a thong--of course. He should have never let on how much he liked it when she was mostly naked for him. 

“Come here.”

She walked towards him, the sway of her hips a little too sexy for comfort before kneeling between his legs and looking up at him, the tops of her breast high and dusted with gold.

“Absolutely beautiful.”

She smiled, “Another prize.”

He waited as she pulled her bag towards them, giving him a good look at her bare backside before opening the bag and pulling out a box of condoms. All in his size, all different varieties and textures. 

“Have to keep you from sales.”

She beamed at him, “You could try, but I thought you approved of my shopping powers.”

She lifted a pair of handcuffs from the bag along with several other things as he regarded her.

“Hermione…”

“Uriel told me… about your… teenage fantasies.”

He flushed, “Will kill him.”

“I asked,” she said. “Is it… okay?”

Viktor leaned forward, “Is it?”

She nodded, “I trust you Viktor.”

He picked up the handcuffs and keys, realized they were real, “How… did you--”

“Garage Sale,” she said and he laughed.

The woman’s shopping powers were legendary. 

To think the reason that they’d met one another was because she was using her shopping powers to procure Christmas presents for Harry and Ron that just so happened to be Viktor themed. He remembered it well, too tired to be there but there per contract to sign random football highlight books, the special editions that were only available under terms he had not idea about. 

She’d managed to score three copies signed by the entire United Kingdom football league and he’d been the lucky player to give them to her. She’d looked up from the book she was reading, leaning against her cart and she smiled, much the way she was smiling now. 

Wicked and beautiful with her lush hair a wild cloud around her head.

“Turn around, glyka,” he said softly and she did so, letting him cuff her with her hands behind her back before joining her on the floor. He drew the length of cloth over her eyes and secured it. 

“You never say how you got those copies.”

“Paraphernalia sale raffle,” she said softly, sighing as he pressed her forward to bend over and unbuckled his belt. Just the once to take the edge off to have a longer night of debauchery. He wouldn’t let her come this time, no, but he would taking an incredibly selfish pleasure in her that would make her soft and pliant.

He poured lube into his hand and selected a textured condom out of the box careful to roll it on and then finger her open. 

“Will have all of you,” he said, teasing over her arse. “Perhaps gag you later.”

She shuddered, remembering the last time he’d gagged her. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder as his fingers opened her slowly. 

“ _ Obicham te, _ ” she whispered when he pulled his hands away.

“I love you too.”

He relished the moan she let out as he slid into her, careful to go slow the first few strokes before gaining speed and power. She slid forward a bit before he adjusted her and held onto her hips the way she liked, pounding into her as she was helpless to stop him. 

She hadn’t ever expected for her mission to finally sex her boyfriend to turn out so well. Well enough that she nearly doesn’t wake up in time to catch their flight back to England three days later, nor had they left the hotel room from all the incredibly pleasurable things that Viktor had planned for her, but she was glad that she planned for it. 

“How we have not run out of condoms?” Viktor asked she slumped half asleep against him on the plane, their hands twined together. 

They really should have considering the frequency with which he was at her condo.

“Buy them in bulk,” she said dreamily. “Cheaper.”

“What is bulk? 36?”

“800,” she said dreamily. 

“Where do you get 800 condoms at a time from?” Viktor asked horrified.

“Warehouse owner likes me,” she said. “I haggled him down in price and up in number...Total steal.”

Viktor eyed her and took a sip of his drink, “I assume was lube enough to go with?”

“Bargained for the combo,” she said with a yawn. “Have to stay stocked… sex is good with a sex god.”

He’s pretty sure Adam will kill him for spitting water in his face while laughing at her, but he can’t seem to care. Adam glared at him and wiped his face with a grimace. Viktor offered him a package of tissues.

“Have them. She bought them in bulk… on sale,” he looked to Hermione fondly with a nod of his head. 

His Mama would love her. He paled thinking about the picture that was sure to be on the cover and the lecture he would get about not introducing her sooner. 

At least… he’d never run out of condoms.


End file.
